


Free Falling

by Creative



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste can speak english, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Acts Like a Cat, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Needs a Hug, Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fluff, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Wings, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Autistic Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Badass Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fluff, Dead Emilie Agreste, Depressed Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s03 Miraculeur | Miraculer, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hot Mess Adrien Agreste, Identity Reveal, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Ladrien | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Ladybug, Ladynoir | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Ladybug, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Has Anxiety, Miraculous Ladybug Love Square, Miraculous Ladybug Spoilers, Near Death Experiences, Oblivious Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Oblivious Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Only a little bit divergent tho, Panic Attacks, Plagg Cares (Miraculous Ladybug), Poor Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Post-Episode: s03 Miraculeur | Miraculer, Protective Plagg (Miraculous Ladybug), Purring Chat Noir (Miraculous Ladybug), Strong Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Supportive Plagg (Miraculous Ladybug), Wing! AU, Wingfic, a little explicit language, not the main focus but it's there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:29:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 112,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23222524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creative/pseuds/Creative
Summary: Miraculous Ladybug WingficWinged! Adrien Agreste/Chat NoirBinding one's wings is dangerous. It is no secret, especially not to Adrien Agreste who is forced to live with the chronic pain of overbinding in order to uphold his father’s flawless image. When the pain from his private life almost gets him killed in his superhero one, Adrien is forced to make some difficult choices. To make matters worse, the media and his partner keep asking questions that hit a little too close to home.Marinette is always prepared to save Paris. It’s her purpose, her responsibility, and she takes it very seriously. Thankfully her partner makes the burden a little easier. When Ladybug is too focused on purifying an akuma to notice her partner struggling, she is almost too late to save him from certain death. Trying to atone for her mistake, Ladybug begins to notice strange things about a partner she thought she new. All the while, trying not to blow her identity by befriending him as Marinette.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire & Nino Lahiffe, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Sabine Cheng & Tom Dupain, Sabine Cheng/Tom Dupain
Comments: 546
Kudos: 1002





	1. Father of the Year

Adrien opened his eyes as his alarm blared from his phone. He had been recovering from a sleepless night filled with the tile floor of his bathroom and the biting back tears. Spasms had gripped his back and wings for hours leaving everything feeling heavy. Limbs leaden and stiff, he let the obnoxious sound fill his room.

It was his own fault this was happening. He was the one who bound his wings every day despite knowing the risks. He was the reason his wings were small and misshapen, feathers bent and dull. Adrien knew what he was doing, but he could not stop. Not when his father’s company was on the line. Not when so many people placed their expectations on his shoulders. No. He knew he could not stop. This was bigger than Adrien. Bigger than a few nights spent on the floor of his bathroom. This was his job. 

The teen had been watching the sunrise from the prison of his room. Having moved from his spot on the bathroom floor to a much more inviting couch, he laid motionless. Adrien did not want to risk irritating his back more than it already was. He had things to do today, a photoshoot to complete, plus the plethora of other things his father and Nathalie had most likely planned down to the second. How could he live up to their expectations if he was paralyzed by back pain? The answer was simple: he couldn’t. 

The pain was not new. He had experienced it since he started regularly binding his wings. Usually, he could ignore the constant ache or dull it with muscle relaxing cream. However, last night, the pain had attacked him like a knife. It was the sharpest, most pronounced pain Adrien had ever felt. His back had agreed with this sentiment, rippling with painful spasms for hours. Adrien had writhed on the cold floor, choking on a towel which he used to block his cries. It was unsightly. Not something he wanted his father or Nathalie to see.

It was bad enough that Plagg had to watch him curl into a ball, pleading for the pain to stop. Adrien had never seen his kwami so worried. Until last night, he did not think Plagg was capable of worry. Usually, the black cat completely ignored Adrien when he woke up in the night. The tiny god claimed that he “needed his beauty sleep.” Despite the blond’s best efforts not to disturb his sleeping companion, the previous night had been an emergency. Plagg had stayed up with him, helping the best that he could. Adrien was grateful. However, his wings still ached with a vengeance. 

“Are you gonna turn that off, Adrien?” Plagg groaned from on top of his chosen’s back. The virtually weightless cat had fallen asleep atop it after the spasms had become bearable. Adrien slowly reached for his phone, wincing as he felt his muscles stretch. Silencing the alarm, he was grateful that his back felt almost back to normal. As normal as Adrien’s back could be, at least. He sat up, slowly testing out the giant feathery appendages that sprouted from his shoulder blades. They were sore, but he could manage. Adrien looked at the black cat kwami floating next to him. Plagg was gazing at his chosen’s wings forlornly. 

“It’s not polite to stare,” Adrien voiced, the words coming out flat and hollow. The weight of his world had always been heavy, but last night had pushed him over the edge. Something inside of him felt broken. Something had changed. He was no longer the same Adrien that he used to be. Plagg looked to his chosen’s face, 

“Adrien I…” 

“I’m doing this for me, for my career.”

The moment the phrase left his mouth Adrien knew it was a lie. Words he rehearsed over and over in his head, used when he himself needed to push through pain. Somehow saying them out loud, saying it too Plagg, made them feel smaller. Pushing them out into the open caused a giant question mark to form in his head. Thoughts that used to be statements, ‘It’s for my career,’ ‘This is for the best,’ now wavered in their sureness. His doubt’s evidence punctuated by his ever aching wings. 

“This is my choice.” 

The lilt of his voice exposed yet another lie. Adrien shut his eyes, trying as much to convince Plagg as to convince himself. He wanted this. It was the only way he was going to get through today. A sigh escaped Adrien’s lips as he forced a smile into his face.

The kwami floated back down to the couch, turning away from Adrien’s empty eyes and forced smile. As the kwami of destruction, he had seen many of his chosen hurting. Over the years of miraculous holders, Plagg had built up a protective shell. It hurt him to watch the holders of the black cat miraculous in pain. They always suffered, and Plagg felt partially responsible for the bad luck. He turned back to his most recent chosen. When he had first met Adrien, the kwami had thought he finally had gotten a chosen who he couldn’t hurt. But as Plagg had spent more time with him, the cat realized that Adrien’s life was far from perfect. It may have been easy for the young model to hide behind expensive clothes and practiced smiles when they had first met, but as the kwami grew closer to his chosen, he saw them for the façade that they were. 

Eventually Plagg had built up a front of aloofness to combat the pain of watching someone he cared about suffer, however his front was just a front. Usually a vibrant green, the teen model’s striking eyes had lost their luster. They looked tired. Exhausted. The makeup artists and photo editors were going to have to prove they knew what they were doing with this photoshoot. It was going to take magic to put life back into Adrien’s eyes. He looked nothing like his usual picture perfect self.

The teen stood. Plagg continued to ignore him. Well, he tried to. Plagg tried not to notice the way Adrien was moving, like his body was far older than seventeen. He tried not to notice how, even as they were relaxed and in the open, Adrien’s wings remained unnaturally compressed, the feathers dull and improperly maintained. He refused to acknowledge the blank stare which the boy wore as he made his way over to his drawer of wing binders.

Between the constant pressure placed on him by his father and the recent increase of akuma activity, his chosen was drained. Completely and utterly drained. 

“I still don’t understand why you have to wear these.” 

“Plagg,” Adrien sighed as he pulled out a white binder, “It is for the company.” 

The damned Agreste brand. Plagg would be happy the day he got to see it inevitably crash and burn. As an immortal being of destruction, he got to see a lot of endings; watching the fashion house that caused his chosen so much suffering end would be a treat. 

“Why couldn’t you just not bind them? Other people let their wings free.”

Adrien closed his hands into fists, biting back a snapping retort. If Plagg were purposely trying to get a rise out of him, he would have to try a little harder. The blond took a deep breath, 

“It’s complicated.”

“Really?” Plagg pushed, knowing that he had struck a nerve, “Because it seems to me that your father is trying to cover up having a winged son in order to prevent his brand from being tainted.” 

Adrien bristled, eyes flashing with anger. 

“You don’t know my father! Everything he does is for me! For my future!” 

Plagg rolled his eyes, “Why are you humans so obsessed with the future? You have such a short time on this Earth! Why spend it making yourself miserable so you can live comfortably for a few years right before your demise? Looking out for your future my ass!”

“He has given me every opportunity—”

“Given you the opportunity to suffer!” Plagg was far from finished. He knew Adrien experienced chronic pain, but he glossed over it so much the kwami has assumed it was not bad, however, after last night, Plagg knew this was not some pesky back ache. Adrien was hurting his body, and the small kwami did not know if it could be fixed. 

“You had to beg to be sent to a real school! You are not allowed to have guests over! You can't go out with your friends! Every spare minute of your time is dedicated to the Agreste brand!” 

Plagg was livid now. The tiny god had been silent for too long. He was angry at Gabriel Agreste for neglecting his son. Angry at Adrien for being so attached to his father, so blind to the abuse. Angry that his chosen was in pain, and not doing anything to stop it. 

“You are constantly in pain so your father can maintain his aesthetic! Great parenting he—”

“ENOUGH.” 

Plagg’s ears flattened. He met his chosen’s eyes. The pairs of green eyes shone like fireballs of emotion, waging a silent battle in the wake of Adrien’s outburst. Plagg refused to back down. He stood by everything he had said. 

It was Adrien who looked away first. He always did. Deep down the blond knew that everything his companion had said was true. His father was a great business owner and designer. He loved his job. Adrien swallowed the lump that formed in his throat.

His father loved his job more than he loved his own son. If only Adrien had been better, faster, stronger, smarter, then maybe he would be worthy of Gabriel Agreste’s affection. Adrien knew he was not the son his father wanted, and Plagg had unbeknownst brought all of the self loathing back to the surface. 

“Please,” Adrien said softly. He closed his eyes. The fire that had once burned there was replaced with the dull weight of sadness. Plagg floated downwards, wishing he hadn’t been so rash in his words. Adrien was just a kid. Sometimes it was easy to forget. 

Adrien folded his wings tightly against his spine, wincing as his back twinged painfully. Swallowing the discomfort, he strapped the constricting device around his chest and back. Feeling the familiar pressure squeeze his torso, he took one last deep breath before tightening it fully.

As the blond made himself presentable, Plagg switched the TV to the local news. The familiar tone of Nadia’s reporting filled the space. Adrien pulled a long sleeve shirt over his head, half listening to the news story. 

“Despite the cold, protesters are gathered in front of the Mayor’s office demanding changes be made to end what they call discrimination against winged people.” 

Adrien pulled his pants on, glancing at himself in the mirror. He looked normal. The custom binders fit his back perfectly, no one could tell he was hiding wings underneath. 

“Ban wing binders!” some protesters chanted from the TV, “Free the wings!” 

The shot switched to a sandy winged protester. He was holding a poster with a crude drawing of a wing binder with a red “x” over it. Adrien sighed. He knew many winged people felt binders were a form of oppression. This protester, for example, was telling the story of how he had lost his corporate job because he refused to wear a binder in the office. He said his only way of getting to work was through flight, and if he bound his wings he could damage them. 

Frankly, binders were dangerous, permanent damage of wings due to over binding was very common. Adrien had experienced it first hand. Where most avian hybrids his age had strong, slightly oversized wings, his were small and bony, underdeveloped from lack of use and tight restraint. They didn’t look normal. All the more reason to keep them bound, Adrien thought dejectedly. No one could see their warped appearance if he kept them hidden. 

The only time he let them loose was when he was alone, or when he was Chat Noir. The carefree superhero persona he developed kept his wings folded, but not bound. Honestly it was a relief every time he transformed, which due to the increased tension and protests, had become quite often. Hawk Moth was loving the negative energy. Maybe that was why his back was throwing a fit. He had probably spent more time as Chat Noir than Adrien this week, which allowed for his wings to be out a lot more than his back was used to.

“Will you turn it off, Plagg?” the teenager asked. The blond sighed, eyes staring unfocused at the screen. The black kwami did as he was asked, a silent apology offered in the action. He floated over to a now dressed Adrien, zipping into the boy’s pocket. 

Not bothering to waste any more precious time, Adrien trudged downstairs. His limbs felt like they were full of bricks, movements sluggish as he made his way to the foyer. Like every morning, Nathalie waited for him, eyes glued to the tablet in her hands. She glanced up as he passed her, 

“Your breakfast is in the dining room.” 

Adrien nodded, shooting her a smile. If she knew what he had gone through last night, she did not acknowledge it. He silently thanked himself for making an effort to conceal the “I got maybe two hours of sleep” look he had sported when he awoke on the couch. However this feeling of relief quickly switched to a twinge of uneasiness as he got closer to his father’s assistant. Adrien’s meticulously styled hair, well blended concealer, and tight binder could pass as normal for almost everyone, but Nathalie was different.

Adrien always had trouble reading people. Various facial expressions and nonverbal cues were often lost on him. He tried his best, but he knew he missed a lot. Thankfully, his friends had always been ready to explain what they meant when the blond asked, which he tried to keep to a minimum. He did not want them to get annoyed, or worse, leave entirely. These general misinterpretations became very noticeable in his interactions with Nathalie.

Nathalie was one of the most difficult for Adrien to understand. Her unchanging, impassive expression was completely unreadable to the model. He tried to get to know her better, but his attempts were met by practiced, professional shutdowns. She was not open to being anything more than his father’s assistant.

Even though he could not read her at all, she saw through him like glass. After all, she had known him before he had perfected the mask he wore as Adrien. Before he bound his wings so tightly they no longer looked normal. Before his mother had left and his father began breaking his heart over and over. Nathalie had been there. A cold, but constant presence, as life repeatedly beat him down. He made eye contact with her as he walked past, her blue eyes unyielding as ever. Those same cold eyes lingered a moment too long on his back. He self consciously straightened. Her eyes burned into him, making him glance anywhere but back at her. 

“Is that new one?” She asked coolly. Alway calm, never unruffled. Adrien longed to be able to control his emotions like her. Nathalie was one of the three people who knew about his wings. His father and dead mother being the other two. 

“Yes,” he stood in front of her, trying to stay as still as possible under her unwavering gaze. 

“Looks good.”

The assistant refocused on her tablet, effectively dismissing Adrien from her presence. He sighed, quite pitifully due to the constricting nature of his bindings, and walked into the dining room. 

The teen was hungry, but knew the breakfast waiting for him would do little to subside his growling stomach. Since he had begun binding his wings, Gabriel had withdrawn him from fencing and implemented a strict meal plan. Although the binder successfully flattened his wings to his back, it also squeezed everything else. Adrien could not breathe well enough in the confines of the binder to exercise or eat enough. Young Adrien had found this out the hard way when he fainted during a private fencing lesson due to lack of oxygen and low blood sugar. His father had been very unhappy to see a visit to the hospital interrupting their schedules. Shaking off the memory, the teen looked at the piece of toast and few apple slices sitting on his plate.

Adrien hated it. He missed real food. He missed chocolate, and the buttery croissants from the Dupain-Chang bakery. He missed not having to think so hard when meal planning and being allowed to eat with friends. He missed sparring with his teammates and leaving his house to go on fencing competitions. His stomach growled. He began to eat.

His father was not starving him by any means. Not intentionally at least. He was given enough food for a model who no longer did a sport, but definitely not enough for a superhero of Paris. He would be lying if he said he was not hungry. 

His once muscular figure had slowly shrunk until he suddenly needed smaller clothes, and the make up artists that styled him at shoots began to make comments about how defined his cheek bones had become. Adrien had tried to stop this progression by stealing snacks from the kitchen, but all it earned him was disappointed stares from his father and a locked pantry. The teen model knew that Gabriel was just trying to maintain his son’s flawless image. It was not Gabriel’s fault that his son was getting so skinny. 

“Kid?” Plagg materialized on the table, the earlier argument forgotten, “You have been staring at that toast for ten minutes now.” 

Adrien rubbed his face, “Sorry, I’m just tired.” 

Plagg nodded, clearly unconvinced. 

The blond ate a slice of toast slowly, savoring every bite of food. When he finished he felt the pressure of his stomach against his binder. Adrien shifted uncomfortably with the tightness, hoping he would get used to it soon. 

“You okay?” Plagg was lounging on the table, enjoying that he did not have to be stuffed in his chosen’s pocket at the moment. 

“It’s just tight. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Before Plagg could say anything, Nathalie walked in. The kwami zipped through the table into the pocket of Adrien’s over-shirt. 

“We leave after you are done. Make sure to bring a coat because it snowed last night.” 

Adrien was aware of this. He watched the white powder come down at three in the morning through the tiny window of his bathroom. The seizing of his back muscles had brought him to its tiled floor in a desperate search for pain relief. Eventually, the boy had just laid on the chilled floor and waited for the spasms to stop, punctuating each twitch with various obscenities.

Adrien shivered. Forcing the unwanted memories from last night away, he pushed a pleasant smile onto his features. 

“Thank you, Nathalie.” 

He hesitated, smile wavering. He felt Plagg tense in his pocket, almost as though the black cat knew what the young model was going to ask. 

“Is my father going to be at the photo shoot?” 

Nathalie gazed through him and before she spoke Adrien knew the answer, “Your father is very busy.” 

Adrien nodded. The mask of normality that the model felt obligated to wear threatened to fall. Everything kept piling up, and now even the little things threatened to break him. However, Adrien had to persevere. After all, that was the usual answer. It was deliciously tragic how it still managed to crush his hopes every time. 

“Okay,” Adrien said, forcing a cool neutrality into his voice. He followed Nathalie out of the dining room, shooting a glance at his father's office as he passed. Plagg appeared on Adrien’s shoulder, shaking his head sadly. Without another word, the pair followed Nathalie out into the cold. 

\--- 

It was cold. The stylish jackets Adrien had been modeling did nothing to protect him from the nipping air. Changing jacket after jacket had left him pink and wind burned. His cheeks stung red with cold, which the photographer swore was endearing. 

His body thought otherwise. It needed a break. His back hurt, and it was getting hard to pretend it didn’t. Nathalie had even noticed his discomfort and gave him some over the counter pain meds to combat the aches. They had worked at first but their effects waned quickly. He knew they still had a few more winter items to model but Adrien could not sit here anymore. The snap of the camera and the harsh flash was making Adrien’s nerves go haywire. Every crunch of snow under his foot seemed too loud, and the voices around him too soft. The jackets were too tight, it felt like he could feel every fiber of fabric touching his skin. The wing binder around his chest was not helping, poking at his ribs when he tried to breathe through the sensations. Everything felt wrong. Hoping that he was not being rude the teen asked, 

“Would it be okay if we took a quick break?” 

The photographer waved his hands and went over the monitor that was displaying the photos. Adrien sighed in relief, his breath making a cloud in front of him. He looked around for Nathalie, not surprised when she was nowhere to be found. She was probably attending to some of his father’s other more important business. Huffing to himself, the young model walked stiffly over to one of the chairs that had been set up for makeup. He shrugged off his current jacket, relishing the way the cold air bit his skin and realigned his senses.

“You’re rocking,” Nathalie’s voice came from nowhere.

Adrien turned in shock to see the other woman standing beside him. He paused, realizing he had been rocking back and forth on his feet. It wasn’t on purpose. Adrien knew his father hated when he fidgeted, especially in public. He tried his best to repress the urge to begin seemingly pointless repetitive actions, but sometimes he did them without realizing.

Adrien pulled his arms through a different jacket, not making eye contact with Nathalie, “I’m sorry.” 

“You have a reputation to uphold,” Nathalie’s eyes bore into Adrien, “Don’t mess this up for your father.”

Adrien felt a rock form in his stomach. Of course this was about his father’s image. The teen nodded, not trusting his voice. He turned back to the chair in front of him as Nathalie walked off towards the director. It was empty, as most of the makeup artists were gathered around one of the portable heaters by the monitors. Ordinarily Adrien would have joined them, and not just to escape the cold. The makeup team was always excited and ready. They genuinely enjoyed working for his father, and their energy was contagious. On long days they would always have some new makeup palette or technique to try and Adrien would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy being the subject of such experiments. He watched them from afar, seeing them praise the photographer and director’s work, talking amongst themselves about how they could have made his highlight more 'poppin’. He longed for their ability to combine carefree energy with a professional attitude.

“You can go over there you know,” Plagg said from under Adrien’s collar. The kwami had slipped there when the boy had changed coats. Adrien sighed, turning his head so his chin brushed against the tiny cat by his neck. Plagg let out an involuntary purr, but he quickly disguised with a cough. The blond snorted, amused at the little god’s actions.

Turning serious, Adrien looked back over to where the crew was gathered, “I don’t want to look at myself.”

Plagg scoffed, “Don’t want to fluff your ego too high?” 

Adrien swatted at his shoulder, effectively hitting Plagg and playing it off so he appeared to be wiping melted snow off his jacket. 

“Hey!” Plagg whined. 

“I don’t want to see how fake I look.”

Plagg was quiet. Adrien had said it so casually, as if it was a fact. Which, to an extent it was. Adrien was not the shallow, carefree teen that the cameras captured. He was not the diplomatic and pristine, perfect son of Gabriel Agreste that the media wrote about. Adrien’s life was complicated and messy, but the boy would go to his grave before anyone knew it.

Plagg wished his chosen would not be so stubborn. It angered the cat kwami that Adrien would not reach out for help. They had the argument time and time again, which usually ended up with Plagg in the ring and Adrien blowing off steam as Chat Noir. At least the kwami induced superhero form served as a healthy outlet for the young model. Plagg would never admit it, but he was glad when Adrien called on his transformation. It made the kwami feel like he could actually do something good for his chosen. To feel the joy that coursed through Adrien as he faulted across rooftops, the excitement when he was going to meet Ladybug for patrol, the emotions were especially welcome after a long day of watching his chosen hide his suffering. 

“Adrien?” A man with heavily accented french spoke. The model judged by the inflection he was American. The blond blinked, realizing that the crowd around the monitors had dispersed. It took another second for Adrien to process that the man who had spoken was the director and was ready to start up the photoshoot again. 

“Right! Yes! I’m ready,” He smiled, hopping off of the chair. In his haste Adrien had forgotten about the precarious state of his back, earning a sharp jab of pain up his spine as his feet met the ground. He grimaced, stumbling forward and just barely catching himself on the previously occupied chair. The director furrowed his brow, 

“Good to start?” he asked again in broken french. Adrien nodded and smiled again, knuckles turning white with the grip he had on the chair. The director looked him over once before turning away to his cameraman. The two spoke english, too quickly for the french model to understand. He vaguely remembered Nathalie briefing him that this was a collaboration with an American company, but frankly Adrien hadn’t cared enough to really listen. Plagg peaked out at Adrien who was still gripping the chair. Meeting his chosen’s eyes he watched the model collect himself before striding back in front of the camera. There was no time to be weak. The boy’s green eyes steeled in anger, wishing his body would cooperate with what his mind demanded. 

“No, No,” the director called from behind the camera. Adrien realized he must have looked like he had been pouting. He heard his father’s voice in his ear, don’t disappoint me. A phrase the man had spoken over and over to his son, so much so it played like a broken record in his mind. 

“Sorry,” Adrien apologized, flashing his famous carefree smile. The director nodded, telling the camera crew what angles to be at and where the light should be. Adrien shook the thoughts of disappointment out of his head, allowing himself to be blinded by the flashes of the camera. His body worked on autopilot, striking poses he knew by heart, a look over his shoulder here, a smile and a wink there. The crew was captivated by his performance, in mere moments he had gone from feeling crippled from chronic pain, to smiling, posing, laughing. Anyone watching would think Adrien Agreste to be the happiest boy in the world. 

“Something is off with him Tikki,” A pink coated girl watched the shoot from afar. Her own kwami sat in the fold of her hood, hidden from onlookers. 

“Are you sure Marinette?” the ladybug kwami gazed across the snow-covered park to the model, “He looks fine to me.” 

“Well he is modeling! Of course he looks fine! Actually, he looks more than fine. He looks absolutely gorgeous, but he always looks gorgeous. And look at the way they did his hair, so dreamy.”

“Marinette,” Tikki giggled, “It’s the same hairstyle he always wears.” 

The blue haired teen blushed, her cheeks matching the color of her tiny companion. She turned to watch Adrien again, sighing as he continued to make everything he wore look flawless. The blond model turned in her direction, squinting slightly at her pink form. Realization dawned across his features and he smiled brightly, waving in her direction.

Marinette waved back, shooting a small smile. She had a huge crush on the model since they were just barely teens. It used to be so obvious. She would stutter over her words when they talked, and she could never stop blushing when he was around. Thankfully for her, he was absolutely oblivious, and was none the wiser to her true feelings. Now that she was seventeen, she had toned her slight obsession down. She still was very much crushing on Adrien, however she didn’t become a mess every time he glanced her way. They had become good friends, and for now Marinette was content with that. Her childhood dream of getting married and owning a hamster had been put on hold for something more realistic. Marinette watched as he turned back to his photoshoot, frowning at something the director had said. 

“There!” Marinette exclaimed, still watching the boy. 

“What?” Tikki stuck her head out of the warmth of Marinette’s coat, shivering in the cold. Noticing her kwami’s chill, Marinette pulled her hood so it would cover more of the tiny being. 

“He is walking weird.” 

The ladybug kwami squinted at the model. Most of her interactions with Adrien had been spent inside her chosen’s bag, so she was not really sure what she was looking for. 

“I don’t know…” 

The director said something to Adrien that Marinette was too far to hear. Judging from the model’s face however, he did not look too pleased with the idea. 

“Maybe if I get closer…” The pink clad girl crept across the snow, hoping to hear what the two were discussing, and maybe catch Adrien’s attention once again. Just as she got within earshot a security guard blocked her view. 

“Miss, this is a private shoot. I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” he spoke english, leaving Marinette lost to his request. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak English,” she said trying to glance around the man’s huge torso for Adrien. Marinette wasn’t sure why the security guard was so intent on blocking her view, she was just watching. She stepped to the side trying to get her friend’s attention. The guard followed her, grabbing her by the arm. 

“Hey!” she yelped as he pulled her backwards, “Hand’s off!” 

She kicked out at him, feeling a rush of satisfaction when her foot hit his shin with a satisfying thwap. 

“What the hell french girl!” The guard pulled her in front of him roughly. Marinette winced as his fingers dug into her arms. The satisfaction she had felt a moment before was replaced by fear. What had she gotten herself into? She couldn’t understand what he was saying. Surely the guard understood this was all a misunderstanding? The security guard reached for his belt, for what she would never know, because just at that moment Adrien stepped in. 

“Stop,” He said. Where the director’s French had been heavily accented, Adrien’s English was probably more so. He had not spoken English since his mother’s disappearance, as she was his primary source of practice. His family in London all knew how to speak French, so language was not an issue, and it had been ages since he had been in a situation where English was needed. To say he was out of practice would be an understatement. The syllables felt foreign on his tongue, 

“She is my friend.” 

Marinette’s eyes widened as she watched Adrien speak to the security guard. She was not sure why it hadn’t occurred to her that he would know English, after all his Aunt and his Mother were both from London. Shaking off her surprise, she turned to Adrien, 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand what he was saying.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Adrien’s gaze hardened, “He should not have been so rough.” 

The director, upset that his own guard had disrupted his photoshoot, walked over talking very pointedly at his employee. At this point, the English was too fast for Adrien to follow so he turned to Marinette, 

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she breathed, noticing how he had stepped closer to her. Feeling the heat rise in her cheeks she continued, “I didn’t mean to cause a scene.” 

Adrien snorted, “Are you kidding? Seeing you, and not having to model as long? Highlights my day.” 

Marinette felt her blush grow. He smiled at her. Rubbing the back of his neck with one hand he asked, “Since you’re here, would you like to stay?” 

The blue haired girl hesitated. It was cold, and she knew her Maman and Papa would be needing help in the bakery. Adrien seemed too deflate a little at her silence. He felt stupid for even asking. Marinette had always been timid around him. He was not sure of why, but he assumed it was because she didn’t like him. They had just been making progress on their friendship, and he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. 

“Sorry,” he forced a smile, “You’re probably busy.”

Marinette had spent enough time around Adrien that she knew when he was using his model smile. It floated on the surface of his face, not quite committed enough to reach his eyes, but just real enough that he could fool those who didn’t know him. Marinette knew him. At least she liked to think she did. She knew that behind that smile lay secrets, and although she did not know the extent of them, she knew they existed. Marinette hated when he used his model smile on her. 

“I actually just finished my plans for the day,” she chirped, smile widening as Adrien’s became more sincere. The statement was not technically a lie. Although she should go home and help her parents, they were not expecting her back for a while longer. She had been coming home from babysitting Manon, so at least her concrete plans were finished. Marinette knew her parents could handle the winter rush by themselves. 

“Marinette!” Tikki whispered into her chosen’s ear. The red Kwami was still taking refuge from the cold inside her jacket’s hood, “You have already had to miss helping your parents so much this week because of Hawk Moth. You should really go back to make up for it.” 

Marinette frowned. Her Kwami was right. Confused on why she had begun to frown, Adrien cocked his head slightly to the side. She had seemed happy a moment ago, had she changed her mind? The boy began playing with his ring, rotating it around his fingers with one hand. The repetition of the smooth surface gliding over his finger easing his nerves. Marinette was his friend, she would tell him if she needed to leave. The action brought Marinette out of her thoughts. She shook her head, and smiled again, 

“I have to go help my parents later, but as long as I pay attention to the time, it should be fine.” 

Adrien stopped spinning his ring. He was happy she could at least stay for a little bit. The model didn’t have that much time left in the shoot, and even with the setback of his break and Marinette’s interruption, he figured everyone was ready to get out of the cold. 

“Great!” Adrien beamed, rocking back and forth a little in excitement. He quickly stopped himself, remembering what Nathalie told him earlier. His father would be ashamed. If Marinette noticed, however, she paid no mind. Cheeks red from both embarrassment and cold, Adrien began to lead Marinette over to the portable heaters so she could watch in comfort. 

Now that Marinette was physically close to Adrien, she knew something was up. He seemed to brace himself with every move he made. With each step she tension in his shoulders and fists wound tighter. She wanted to reach out to him, to ease the strain he was putting on his muscles for reasons she could not fathom. Yet, her hand stayed at her side. Marinette knew Adrien only saw her as a good friend. She did not want to push him, or risk losing him forever. She bit her lip, looking up to his face. 

Whiplash. That’s how Marinette would describe the difference between how the model was moving, and how his face projected what he was feeling. He smiled at the crew as they passed, laughing lightly at a comment one of them made. Judging by his face, nothing was wrong. He looked carefree and happy. Maybe the blue-haired girl was imagining things. Shaking her head, she scolded herself for obsessing over the model again. She was past this now.

Just as she was about to apologize for staring, a loud crack sounded through the park. 

“What was that?” Adrien whipped around. He pulled Marinette close to him as he surveyed the area, looking for the source of the sound.

Marinette was on high alert. Ever since the protests against the discrimination of winged people, akumas had been an almost daily occurrence. She silently cursed Hawk Moth for choosing now of all times, but quickly put her own teenage wants aside. Someone could be hurt, and it was her job to fix it. 

“I’m not sure.”

The pair spun around in a slow circle, still confused to where the sound came from. 

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH,” the American director screamed, pointing up at the sky. A dark purple blast shot down from above covering his figure with a slimy looking residue. When the man opened his eyes they glowed purple, and he began walking out of the park, determination set in his features.

“Akuma!” The pair yelled ducking behind one of the light boxes for cover.


	2. The Equalizer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug and Chat Noir face a difficult Akuma. Chat Noir's secret almost gets him killed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !! content warning !!  
> \- panic attacks

Adrien watched in horror as the sight in front of him unfolded. One by one, each of the staff members were hit by the purple blasts. The innocent civilians would then begin moving in unison, like the akuma was calling them somewhere. 

“We have to get out of here,” Adrien breathed heavily. 

“How are we going to get around him?” Marinette pointed upwards to a flying akuma. The man laughed maniacally, 

“If we don’t have enough supporters to pass this bill, then I’ll make them. We will make a difference in Paris!” 

Adrien frowned. Ladybug was always the one to come up with their plans. The Akuma was now circling the park, looking for anyone who may be hiding, it was only a matter of time before the pair was found. Adrien looked around the former outdoor set, which was now demolished before them. Remembering he had left his phone across the way he turned to Marinette, 

“Do you have your phone?”

“What?” Marinette furrowed her eyebrows, confusion clear on her features. 

“If you use your phone to call mine, the ringtone will create a distraction,” Adrien fiddled with his ring. He needed to get away and transform soon. Paris was in danger. Realization dawned across Marinette’s features. 

“Great idea!” 

Fishing through her bag, she saw Tikki had taken refuge inside when the commotion started. The tiny red god looked pleadingly at her chosen, hoping that she would understand the importance of getting away to transform. Marinette nodded at the kwami, quickly pulling out her phone. 

“On the count of three we will run to that store,” Marinette pulled up Adrien’s number gesturing to a tourist shop on the corner. It was a short sprint, nothing the two teens couldn’t handle. Adrien suppressed a distressed whine, sounding a lot like his alter ego. Marinette shot him a funny look, but was quickly distracted by the flying Akuma capturing yet another hiding civilian. He would surely catch them if he got much closer. Marinette didn’t hesitate as she pressed the call button on her phone. The pair waited a beat, and then heard the reassuring jingle of a default ringtone. Still in action mode, Marinette grabbed Adrien’s hand and began the run across the street. They had almost made it to the shop when she risked a glance over her shoulder. 

Big mistake. 

The akuma was holding Adrien’s phone. Marinette watched the metal object dissolve in a flurry of purple smoke. She was already thinking like Ladybug, searching his figure for anything that might be an akumatized object. In her cursory glance, she saw nothing so she assumed she and Chat Noir would have to get closer. 

They were going to have to risk being dissolved just like Adrien’s phone. The blue haired girl gulped, this akuma was going to be dangerous. 

The two crashed inside of the store, finding it empty. The civilians and workers inside had probably fled in the appearance of the akuma. At least, that was what Marinette was hoping. Acting fast, Marinette turned and locked the door. 

Adrien’s chest hurt. It felt like a fire had bloomed in his lungs, and the restricted amount of oxygen he could inhale did nothing to quench it. It had been a simple run. Definitely not more than one hundred meters. Had he been Chat Noir, he would be bouncing on to the next thing, but right now, as Adrien, all he could feel was the vice like grip around his chest. He needed to get his wing binder off now. 

“Adrien?” Marinette turned to the model. She had let go of the boy's hand as they pushed through the door, not wanting to accidentally hurt him in the not-so-graceful process. The blonde was breathing hard, looking pale despite the makeup that still adorned his face. Something was wrong. 

“Adrien, are you okay?”

Marinette placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. She tried not to hide her surprise as Adrien jerked away from his touch. His eyes widened as if his involuntary action had revealed a deep dark secret. 

“Yeah,” Adrien coughed out. He rubbed the back of his neck and forced a smile, “I just didn’t eat much this morning.” 

This wasn’t a lie. He had not eaten much that morning, or any morning for that matter. He was sure that his low blood sugar did not help his situation, but for now his most pressing issue was not being able to breathe properly. 

Marinette was not convinced. She didn’t live her life seeing right through Lila’s bullshit without the skills for detecting the truth. Right now Adrien Agreste was lying to her, and there was nothing she could do about it. 

Another crash from outside pulled her out of her thoughts. The pig-tailed girl knew Tikki was probably internally screaming at her to go transform, but she wanted, no, needed to make sure Adrien was okay. If anything happened to him she would never forgive herself. 

“I,” Adrien felt himself waver. This was not good, “We should hide.” 

The model could feel Plagg gently clawing at him from under his collar. If Plagg was eager to transform this akuma had to be bad. 

“The bathrooms,” Marinette suddenly blurted out, reverting back slightly to the timid schoolgirl she used to be. Guilt flashed across her face, she didn’t want to leave him alone, but she needed to transform. Adrien knew he probably should have been able to identify the emotion that flashed across her face but it was completely lost to him. Maybe she was upset with him? The blonde began to spin his ring around his finger, nervous. 

“Right.” 

The words felt like they were sticking to his throat. Talking suddenly didn’t feel right. He shifted from foot to foot, hoping he was not being rude to her. He never wanted to be rude to Marinette, especially after the gum incident of their first meeting. She could be a firecracker of emotion, a side he was just beginning to see again. The silence between them stretched for what felt like forever but it reality was only a few seconds. It was Marinette who made the first move to the women’s bathroom, tuning back before she entered, 

“Stay safe.” 

Adrien nodded. Watching as the door closed behind her. As soon as she was out of sight he allowed himself to gasp for air. Pretending that breathing normally was sufficient took a lot of effort. His rapidly expanding lungs pulled his binder even tighter causing Adrien to claw uncomfortably at his chest. Stumbling into the neighboring boys bathroom he saw more than felt Plagg float out from his pocket. 

“You shouldn’t transform in this state,” the black kwami stated with a rare look of concern. Adrien shook his head. The transformation would help make the tightness in his chest go away. After all, Chat Noir didn’t wear a constricting binder. 

“Plagg, Claws Out!”

Even the familiar phrase felt tight and wrong in his voice. However, as the transformation shimmered onto his body, he felt relief. Chat Noir was not restrained, he did not have to be anyone but himself. He was free. Sighing in relief he shook out his wings, thankful that Plagg’s magic numbed him to pain. The black feathery appendages settled onto his back, looking small even compared to his skinny stature. At this point, they worked only for decoration, as they were too weak to carry him anywhere, but they were even bad at that. His feathers were dull and wrinkled from being pressed to his back. Hardly beautiful. Adrien looked around the room to see how he could get out without alerting Marinette that he was leaving. Spotting a sky light in the roof, he extended his staff to push the glass pane up. He hauled himself up, hissing to himself as he banged his wings against the frame. For someone who spent most of his time as Chat Noir, he was really bad at being spatially aware of his wings. With one final push he crouched onto the roof of the building, closing the skylight behind him. 

“Chat Noir!” 

He turned at the sound of the familiar voice, a smile already on his features. 

“Hello Milady,” the cat hero bowed theatrically, flaring his wings out slightly to add to the effect. Ladybug sighed, but her eyes gleamed with mirth, 

“Hello Chaton.”

Chat Noir felt his face heat up. She must be in a good mood in order to be calling him that during an akuma. Speaking of the Akuma, it was nowhere in sight. The cat hero frowned as he turned to Ladybug, kinking and un-kinking his tail with restless energy. 

“Where is the akuma?” 

Ladybug turned to him from her spot on the roof, 

“I saw him fly towards city hall as I got here. He appears to be a protester upset with how the mayor is handling the angered winged people. I couldn’t get close enough to see anything that could possibly be an akumatized object, but he seems to have powers of vaporization and some kind of compulsion. ” 

Chat sighed. Hawk Moth seemed to be targeting more and more winged people for his victims. It saddened Chat, as he knew that winged people had to work so hard to be given half as much as a non-winged person. He saw it everyday he was modeling. Even though his father preached inclusivity in public, the winged models were always treated differently, and he knew they did not get paid as much. It sickened him. Especially because he was living a lie simply to avoid this unprecedented prejudice. Hawk Moth’s targeting was not helping their situation in the slightest. Shaking off his thoughts Chat smiled, 

“I guess we will have to wing it until we know more.”

Ladybug groaned at his pun, “Let’s get this over with kitty.” 

Together the duo raced across the rooftops of Paris towards the town hall. Since the first attack the streets had been eerily silent, and Ladybug couldn’t help but feel they were walking into some kind of ambush. They slowed as they reached the building, its white victorian façade looming over the street. The former protesters had not dispersed, but rather a new form of them had taken place. Their purple eyes gleamed in anger, victims to Hawk Moth’s latest Akuma. Hiding on a nearby rooftop, Ladybug and Chat Noir surveyed the situation. 

“There are so many of them,” Chat regarded the crowd with surprise. He knew the topic of winged people’s rights had been hot, but he never thought it involved so many. Hundreds of people, winged and un-winged alike, were angrily shouting and scuffling outside of the building. He supposed the numbers would be a little skewed due to the akuma compelling bystanders to join, however as this was ground zero for the akumatization, so the majority of the people must have already been here.

“One of my friends was participating today,” Ladybug said solemnly. Alya was somewhere down there, if not already under the compulsion of the akuma, then probably recording the situation from somewhere. The fiery journalist was the only one in their friend group who had wings, and she made sure they knew about the injustice going on around the city. Marinette would have joined her in protesting the Mayor’s inaction if Manon’s mother had not asked her to babysit. She watched distastefully as a man threw something at the building, causing a chain reaction throughout the crowd. 

“This was supposed to be a peaceful protest.” 

Chat was taken aback by the venom in her words. Ladybug was not one for losing her cool, and this anger was a new look for her. Ordinarily she remained unattached to the situation, focusing only on the job that needed to be done. Shuffling beside her he grabbed his tail in his hands and began rubbing the leather surface. It helped him focus and expel the nervous energy that had been coursing through his blood since he and Marinette had the near escape at the park. 

“Does this meet your quorum!” A booming voice called from the street. The akumatized villain was flying above his newly recruited supporters. He seemed to be addressing the mayor inside the building. Chat flattened his ears at the loud noise. Super hearing could be an amazing advantage sometimes, but when the villains he and Ladybug fought were loud, it made his head pound. He already had enough trouble with raucous noises as Adrien. They just demanded so much attention and energy, it was overwhelming. 

“Chat?” Ladybug placed a hand on her partner’s forearm, grounding him from the commotion around him. Adrien unconsciously pressed further into her touch, reveling in the way her hand felt around his bicep. 

“Sorry,” he grinned sheepishly, “He’s just really loud.” 

The cat hero pointed at his cat ears as if that would illustrate his point. Ladybug nodded, turning back to the situation. There was nothing she could do about the noise except purify the akuma. She hoped her partner wouldn’t be too affected. A week ago they had fought an Akuma whose primary weapon was yelling into a megaphone. She had watched her partner literally curl into a ball to try and escape the incessant noise. Fortunately, her lucky charm had been ear plugs which allowed Chat to get close enough to cataclysm the weapon and free the akuma. However, she had a feeling that would not be her luck today. After the Akuma’s initial outburst was over though, her partner seemed to be okay with the noise level. 

The mayor shakily walked out onto a balcony in the front of the building. Ladybug was surprised he had even come outside at all. The man usually hid from akuma’s and let other people do the work. Standard politician. 

He opened his mouth to speak, voice quaking in obvious fear, “I cannot simply pass a law it takes rounds of voting and I’m—”

“Silence!” The akumatized victim interrupted, “If you will not pass a law to give loyal citizens equal opportunity, then I will!” 

A purple haze shot from his wrist and encircled the mayor. Ladybug looked closer at the villain's arm and noticed a bracelet. That had to be where the akuma had landed. The ball of smoke rose up with the mayor. 

“Nadja Chamack! You will broadcast this so all the world can see it!” 

Ladybug gasped as she saw the mother of the girl she had just been babysitting emerge from the crowd in a trance. Her eyes matched the purple glow of the surrounding protesters. Close behind her camera crew pulled up beside her, already rolling the entire event. Just as the villain was about to say something else, a purple outline of a butterfly encircled his eyes. 

“Yes Hawk Moth.” 

The winged man raised his voice again, this time addressing his followers, 

“We will all go to the Eiffel Tower! Take anyone you see with you, we need everyone present for this momentous event!”

The heroes hidden on the rooftop watched as the crowd began marching in the direction of the tower like robots. Occasionally a group would dart off into a building and emerge with a struggling civilian. They quickly overcame the un-compelled civilians, adding them to the mindless army of angry protesters. The akuma flew quickly in the same direction as his followers, much faster than Ladybug had ever seen an Akuma move before. 

“He flies so fast,” Ladybug remarked. Under different circumstances she would be impressed with the man’s stamina, he had been flying since he had been akumatized and still had the energy to zip off to the Eiffel Tower.

The shattering of glass and a scream broke through her admiration. This man was still a villain, even if he just wanted the law to be more equal. 

“Think you can fly like that?” Ladybug joked to her winged partner. Chat Noir paled and turned away, not understanding that she has been poking fun at him, not insulting him. Ladybug knew Chat didn’t use his wings often, however she didn’t know why. Alya had mentioned his lack of flight to her as Marinette, but it did not strike her as weird. After all, there were lots of winged people who chose to walk instead of fly, it's not like Paris was the most flight friendly city. 

There had recently been restrictions on how high winged citizens could fly when out and about. It had been passed because some woman had been changing with her blinds open and filed a lawsuit against a winged person who supposedly had been peeping. The whole situation sounded fishy to Marinette but she didn’t blame her cat partner for not using his wings. She assumed he would use them if he really needed them.

“We should go,” Chat Noir vaulted off without looking to see if Ladybug was following. He pulled his wings tightly against his back as he shot himself over roof after roof. The red clad hero followed a few meters away from her partner, letting him cool off from whatever she had done to offend him. She sighed, sometimes the cat could be so touchy. 

When the duo arrived at the tower the hoard of followers had tripled in size, it felt like everyone in Paris had been brought out to the event. Lashing his tail, Chat Noir watched as the winged villain flew up to the top of the tower with ease. That was what a lifetime of letting your wings go free looked like. The flying akuma felt like a slap in the face, especially when juxtaposed with his long, painful night. Ladybug landed beside him, effectively silencing the low growl forming in his throat. 

“I think the Akuma is in his bracelet, I noticed it at City Hall. It is going to be difficult to get close enough to break it though.” 

Chat nodded. There was no time to think about his past or be jealous now. They had a job to do. Setting his feelings aside, the cat hero grinned. Now was the time to work alongside his lady.

“Leave that to me.” 

Together the two darted around the protesters to the tower. How they made it unnoticed must have been a streak of Ladybug’s luck. The heroes began climbing the tower, listening to the broadcast that was currently being filmed above them. 

“I am Equalizer!” the akuma announced into the camera, “And today you are watching history in the making.” 

The smoke-esque cage containing the mayor dissipated revealing the man in a mind controlled state. In a monotone voice he began to speak, 

“As mayor of Paris, I am making an executive order to remove from stature all of the limitations placed on winged citizens of Paris. There will no longer be restrictions on flight times and places, and the use of binders in the workplace will be prohibited. Anyone who tries to act out or insult a winged person will be punished” 

Just as the Mayor was about to continue, Ladybug and Chat Noir leaped onto the platform. 

“I think you need a lesson in civics,” Ladybug spun her yo-yo in a defensive manner. Chat Noir stood next to her, poised to attack. The Equalizer let out a laugh. 

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand Ladybug,” 

He spit her name, hatred shining in his eyes. Chat Noir took a step forward but was stopped by Ladybug holding her hand up. Lashing his tail, he stayed put. 

“Are you seriously following her orders!” Equalizer scoffed at Chat Noir, “You have so much more power than her. You can destroy anything you desire, and you can fly. Yet, you prefer to be this wingless child’s pet.” 

“I’m her partner,” Chat stiffened. 

“They know we are superior,” the villain insisted, “they just want to use us, the whole lot of them. They want to keep us in line so we can play fetch for their petty desires. This bill will make sure we can never be subdued again!” 

Ladybug chose this moment to speak, “Equalizer, there are better ways to make change. There are legal ways.” 

“Also the Mayor of Paris can’t make a law for the entire country.” 

Everyone on the platform looked at the cat hero and blinked. 

“What? It’s basic government” he crossed his arms in an air of nonchalance that only Adrien’s alter ego could achieve in the middle of a confrontation with a super villain. 

Ladybug continued, shooting a small smile at her partner, “Change doesn't happen overnight,”

“You ignorant fools,” Equalizer cackled, “When you have all the power, you make the change.” 

Ladybug exchanged glances with her partner before turning back to the villain. 

“That may be true, Equalizer, but you don’t have all the power.” Ladybug smirked. If Chat Noir had not been about to pounce on the villain he would have melted at its attractiveness. 

“What do you mean?” The villain asked. Ladybug felt her confidence grow as Equalizer wavered in front of her. 

The red clad hero stopped spinning her yo-yo, catching at adeptly in her hand she narrowed her eyes at the man in front of her, “You don’t have the miraculous.” 

As Equalizer frowned the familiar glowing mask of Hawk Moth’s mind control flashed onto his face. The akumatized victim seemed to switch gears; instead of focusing on the scene he had created, his attention was now fully on the two heroes. 

Chat Noir was confused about what his partner’s plan was. She had never taunted their miraculous to a villain before. However, he stayed alert, waiting for an opening to get close. He was not really worried about being vaporized; Ladybug’s Miraculous cure would bring him back, but he knew that it would cause her distress to watch him disintegrate Avengers Infinity War style. It puzzled him. He knew that he was her partner, but she didn’t really need him. Out of their duo, he knew he was expendable. It was hard for him to understand why she chose not to comprehend that. At the villain's hesitation Ladybug called to him, 

“Chat Noir! Now!”

Without a second thought the teen hero launched himself at Equalizer. Caught off guard by the sudden cut off of the Hawk Moth monologue that was probably going on inside his head, the winged super villain stumbled. The akumatized victim did not go down easily. If Chat had time to curse his new diet he would have, but instead he had to adjust to his new lithe form, and fast. 

In a rare show of the black cat’s luck, Equalizer lost control of the mayor. This provided an important piece of information; it took focus to control the villain's pawn’s actions. Chat Noir smirked, getting a face full himself was enough to break anyone’s focus. 

“Lucky Charm!” Ladybug called, just as her partner tackled Equalizer. As the spotted hero figured out what to do with her lucky charm, a boombox, Chat Noir and the winged villain fought. Poised to jump into the fray, Ladybug waited for the familiar grayscale to take a hold of her vision. She smiled slightly as she recalled the first time she had summoned her special power. The sudden shift from color to black and white had almost caused her to lose her lucky charm, but now she welcomed the sight. She knew her miraculous luck would be there to help her solve the problem. 

Ducking under a blast from the akuma’s bracelet, she waited for the red and black spots to highlight what she needed. Chat Noir and the akuma were still locked in battle. Both parties held their own quite well. 

“Not bad for a pet,” the Equalizer jeered. 

“Not bad for a pawn,” Chat Noir retorted. The akuma beat his wings sending a strong gust of wind towards the black clad hero. He stumbled backwards, wincing as he felt his backside slam into the railing. Glancing too Ladybug, he saw her holding an old style boombox in her hands. They made eye contact briefly before Equalizer obscured their line of sight. 

That moment was enough. 

Adrien may have struggled with understanding non-verbal cues, but Chat Noir could understand Ladybug with ease. Smirking, the black cat hero turned back to his opponent, newfound confidence radiating in his form. 

After the shared years of working together, Ladybug and Chat Noir had truly become in sync. Looking back at their past battles was almost comical due to how uncoordinated and young they had been. Now it felt like they simply understood each other. Even though they didn’t know each other's identities, they had transcended to a new level in their partnership. Working together felt as natural as breathing. 

When an obnoxious pop song played loudly from the boom box, Chat Noir wasn’t surprised. He knew his Lady had a plan, and whatever it was, he would adapt. It was one of his strengths as her partner. It was one of his only strengths, he thought. 

Flexing his hands in preparation for Cataclysm, he pushed himself off the railing. Distracted by the noise, Equalizer turned around. 

“What the h—”

“Cataclysm!”

The leather clad hero lunged forward. 

Chat was fast. He felt his claws graze the arm of Equalizer. Still lunging. Still reaching. He waited for the rush of power that accompanied the release of cataclysm. It eventually came, but now how Chat Noir had intended. 

“What have you done?” The villain screeched. Chat’s ears flattened on their own accord. He watched, frozen, eyes wide as saucers, as one of the akuma’s wings disintegrated under his touch. He had done that. 

He had used Cataclysm on a living thing. 

So shocked by his own mistake, the teen hero barely registered being shoved roughly against the railing once more. Remembering the pain he had felt when Miraculer had used the ancient power on his ribs he shuddered. 

“Not so high and mighty now are we, pet?” Equalizer had the cat hero by his neck, pushing him aggressively over the railing. On instinct Chat Noir’s wings opened behind him, it was pathetic. As if they could do much good if the akuma let him go. He tried to get Ladybug’s attention but she had her eyes focused on the currently unused arm that sported the bracelet. She would save him. He only had to distract for a few more minutes. 

“Please,” Chat struggled against his captor, gasping for breath, “It was an accident.”

The Equalizer chuckled, “How does the saying go? Ah, yes, Eye for an eye, wing for a wing.” 

The villain looked at Chat’s unfurled wings. Snorting at their warped appearance, he used his free hand to point at the bent secondaries and unorganized primaries. 

“You’re seriously fighting me? Someone who just wants to end this kind of suffering. Make things better for you.” 

Chat paled as the villain leaned over his struggling form, “Let’s show the world what a hypocrite you are.” 

“Not so fast!” Ladybug snatched the wristband off of the Equalizer, but not fast enough. The grip on his neck loosened and Chat felt himself falling. He was falling off the Eiffel tower. 

Chat Noir didn’t scream. His throat burned, and someone was screaming, but it couldn’t be him. He would know if he was screaming, right? The wind whipped his shaggy blonde hair into his eyes as he struggled to right himself. 

“Chat!” Ladybug turned, expecting to see her feline partner hovering mid air above the place Equalizer had held him. She figured he would have used his wings or baton after she had removed the akumatized object. He had to have flown. 

Baton, his mind provided. He reached to the spot on his belt where it usually resided but it was empty. A pit formed in his stomach, it had probably fallen off when the Equalizer had smashed him into the railing. 

The red clad hero looked up. Perhaps her partner had flown above her, it wouldn’t be out of character for the cat to play a prank on her while the akuma was still to be purified. She frowned when she found the sky empty. Where was he?

He was going to die. 

Ladybug tore the wristband, releasing the akuma inside. She trapped the evil butterfly into her spotted yo-yo and waited for it to be purified. Once the purification was finished, she turned to her lucky charm which had been discarded by the railing. Next to it sat Chat Noir’s baton. 

Instinct took over with the thought. The bedraggled wings he knew to be useless spread to their full length. He cried out in pain as the wind pushed against them harshly. They hadn't been used like this in a long time. Doing a somersault in midair the teen hero tried to slow his descent but his muscles wouldn't cooperate. Every time he tried to control the feathery appendages on his back, they were paralyzed by the wind and gravity. He hoped the Miraculous Ladybug brought him back. 

Ladybug leaped over the railing, diving to catch her falling partner. She watched as he struggled to use his wings, flipping over himself multiple times as the wind caught his feathers. She thanked the kwami’s his antics were slowing his fall, even if it made him look like a fool. One would think the dumb cat had never flown a day in his life. As she dove she threw her yo-yo back up towards the tower, flipping over backwards—much more gracefully than her partner—and snaking an arm around Chat Noir’s waist. Together they swung to the ground, landing safely at the base of the tower. 

“Miraculous Ladybug!” 

The swarm of ladybugs flew around the pair and then the city, reverting everything to the way it was before the attack. 

“What the HELL was that!?” Ladybug wheeled around. She was furious with him. What kind of prank was he trying to pull? He could have gotten himself killed. What if she hadn’t noticed in time? Fuming, she finally looked at her partner. 

He was shaking. Trembling, actually, was more accurate. His ears laid flat against his head and his tail had curled around one of his legs. His wings quivered and for the first time, Ladybug really looked at them. They didn’t look much like Alya’s wings at all. She supposed she could be comparing two different wing types but Chat Noir’s looked fragile. Other wings she had seen always looked strong and firm. Chat’s looked weak, almost as if they couldn’t support him. 

Oh. 

Oh shit. 

“Ladybug!” A reporter called. A crowd had begun to gather. Taking another look at Chat Noir’s shaking form, she pulled him close and swung them to a secluded rooftop nearby. 

“Chat?” she tried again, setting him down and giving him space. 

“I-I,” he stammered, pulling his hands to his chest. His brain was racing a mile a minute. Nothing felt right. The blonde hero shut his eyes, trying in vain to decrease the overload that threatened to break him in front of his partner. He had fooled all of Paris into thinking he was normal and one simple fall destroyed all of that work. Even Ladybug had believed his somewhat overly dramatic and silly persona. Now what would she think? Would she want a new Chat Noir? One who was actually useful. 

Ladybug watched her partner try to pull himself together. With every shiver his body expressed the more heartbroken she became. How had she not noticed anything sooner? She was supposed to be his partner and yet she had never seen this side of him. This painfully real and vulnerable side of him. She has been so naïve to think that he was all puns and flirting. The spotted heroine watched as he began grabbing at his chest. His breathing had become erratic and before she knew it her partner was on his knees hyperventilating. Gasping she dropped down next to him, grabbing his wrists to keep him from scratching his chest with his claws. 

“Chat you have to breathe.”

“Can’t” he panted, green eyes meeting hers. The distress was shining, raw and desperate in his eyes. 

Undeterred Ladybug continued calmly, “Yes you can. Breathe with me.” 

Exaggerating her breaths, Ladybug used the breathing exercises her mother had taught her. Being one of two people responsible for the safety of an entire city had slowly chipped away at her mental health. Sometimes the fear of failure would be so great that Marinette would sit for hours, paralyzed with anxieties about the future. She could empathize with Chat’s shaky breaths. 

The stress of Ladybug had turned the young teen into a meditation enthusiast. Sitting with her mother every morning gave her a sense of control, when in reality she had so little. It wasn’t traditional therapy, but it worked for her. 

“See? You’re doing great.” 

Although the tightness in his chest receded, the feeling of wrongness settled in his throat, making it tight and uncomfortable. He opened his eyes, surprised to find Ladybug sitting across from him on the secluded rooftop. The firm, solid, not causing him any risk of falling to his death, rooftop. He swallowed, not wanting to remember the near death experience. 

The knots in his throat remained.

Chat Noir hated feeling like this. He had tried to explain it to Nino once— the tightness that made words impossible— but quickly found out he was alone in the experience. At least, Adrien didn’t know anyone else who lost their voices when they were scared or overwhelmed. As he had spent more time as his hero self, he had gotten better at not letting the intense stimulation of akuma battles take his voice, or his normalcy. Almost dying, however, was not something he could imagine rolling off of his leather suit like water. The feeling of having absolutely no control was too much.

Sometime in his panic, he had begun to cry. Embarrassed at his weakness, he wiped harshly at his cheeks, destroying any evidence of tear tracks. 

“Are you okay?” 

Chat Noir let out a hollow laugh. He looked past Ladybug at the Eiffel Tower. The tall metal monument illuminated against the dark grey of the winter sky. It would probably snow again tonight. Before he could answer, their miraculous beeped in unison. 

“That’s our cue to leave, Milady.” Adrien fought a grimace at the sound of his own voice. It was wrong. It was all wrong. 

Ladybug pursed her lips, torn between keeping her identity a secret and making sure her partner was okay. In the end he made the decision for her, pulling out his restored baton and preparing to vault into the night. 

“Wait!” Ladybug called at the last minute. Chat Noir skidded to a halt and retracted his baton, ears already pointing towards his lady. 

“I’ll patrol tonight.” 

The cat hero cocked his head to the side in confusion. It was his night to patrol. She had gone the night before, and had to be exhausted. It would not be fair if she took two nights in a row. He forced his eyes to meet hers, searching for something he was sure he was missing. 

“You’ve done more than enough today.” She continued in the wake of his silence, “Let me do this for you.” 

Their Miraculous beeped again, this time more urgently. There was no time to debate. There was never enough time for anything other than the akuma. Chat lashed his tail bitterly. Ladybug frowned, untying her yo-yo from its spot on her hip. It wasn’t right to leave things like this. Yet, what choice did they have? 

Whether it was their inner synchronicity or simply luck, they both leaped off the roof at the same time. Ladybug relished the wind nipping at her face, while Chat Noir swallowed fear every time he felt himself in free fall. Uneasiness settled in the pits of both heroes' stomachs. For once, it wasn’t just Adrien who felt like things were wrong.


	3. happy kitty, sad kitty, purr, purr, purr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After failing to execute Ladybug's plan, Adrien feels like a failure. He takes to the city and finds comfort on the balcony of everyone's favorite bluenette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content:  
> \- hurt/comfort  
> \- MariChat fluff

Adrien’s transformation dropped just as he vaulted through his open window. He stumbled forward barely managing to catch himself from face-planting onto the hard floor. Plagg groaned, floating down a bit more gracefully than his chosen, but not so lucky as to stop himself from collapsing onto the ground. 

“Adrieeennnn,” Plagg rolled over dramatically, looking up at his chosen. The blond stared back at him, lips pressed together in a firm line. The kwami tried his best to block any pain his chosen felt in his suit, both to make Chat Noir a more effective hero, and to grant his chosen momentary relief from his back pain. As soon as the transformation dropped, however, Adrien was forced to readjust to the pain all at once. 

Without making a sound, Adrien scooped up his kwami and placed him next to a half eaten circle of camembert; the stench had grown even more pungent in its time outside the refrigerator, making Adrien’s nose scrunch involuntarily. 

“Eat your smelly cheese.”

Plagg watched his chosen warily. He was worried. The black cat kwami had felt terror through their shared connection, so something pretty intense must have happened. Adrien was generally a pretty fearless holder, sometimes detrimentally fearless: he always focused on saving others without much care for himself. To have such a potent feeling of fear, something must have gone wrong. 

Although he could feel Adrien’s human emotions through the suit, he was not exactly a conscious, separate entity. When he was fused to the ring, Plagg was more of a tool to be wielded than a god. While on some level, he was aware of what his wielder was going through, he didn’t know exactly, because he was existing in a different form. This was partly the reason the keepers of the Miraculous had been so careful about choosing the correct wielders, so much could go wrong if the powers fell into the wrong hands. Especially since kwamis could not fight back on how their holder was using their powers. 

As Plagg consumed the camembert, Adrien paced the room. He had torn off his over shirt and discarded it into a pile on his bed. Now the model was working off his long sleeve shirt, leaving his pale back exposed to the feasting kwami. 

“You’re gonna fall over if you keep walking with that shirt over your head,” Plagg belched ceremoniously. Stopping his pacing, Adrien tossed the shirt onto his bed and glared at the kwami. 

“I wasn’t gonna fall.” 

“With your luck?” Plagg chuckled, energy restored, “You definitely would have tripped or something.” 

The teen rolled his eyes at the black cat and began undoing the straps that pulled his wings uncomfortably close to his back. Adrien assumed that Plagg had no idea that he had almost fallen to his death today, either that or he has a poor taste in humor. Judging by how concerned the black cat had been last night, however, Adrien guessed the former. 

“You know you can tell me anything. Right, kid?” 

Plagg’s voice brought Adrien out of his thoughts. The boy had been getting lost inside his head more frequently, especially as the pressures from both his lives threatened to boil over. He shook his head, blond hair flying into his eyes. Blowing upwards to move his bangs he looked back at his kwami, 

“I know.” 

Plagg nodded. It was not the answer he had hoped for, but it was what he got. 

Adrien refused to believe he was keeping secrets from his kwami. He was simply withholding certain truths to keep his companion from worrying too much. Even though the black kwami tried to hide the fact that he cared, Adrien knew he did. He may not say it outright, but his actions spoke volumes. When the teen was having trouble sleeping, Plagg snuggled up with him and purred until Adrien dozed off. Anytime he woke up from a nightmare or from back pain, Plagg was there to calm him down, and help him through it. In the three years Adrien had held the black cat Miraculous, Plagg had shown him more love than his father had his whole life. Swallowing the lump that had inadvertently formed in his throat, Adrien shrugged the rest of his wing binder off. 

When the constricting wing binder was off his back, Adrien sighed in both relief and dismay. On the one hand, he was glad to get his wings out of the device, but on the other hand, now they were a constant reminder of his inferiority. 

“Do you think father would let me keep my wings out if they looked pretty?” 

Plagg floated up to his chosen, settling comfortably in Adrien’s golden locks. He didn’t want to answer this question. He knew the real answer would only hurt the teen more. Taking one from Adrien’s book, Plagg decided to withhold information. 

“I don’t know kid,” the kwami sighed forlornly, “I don’t know.” 

Adrien hummed in response, crossing the space to the attached bathroom. He looked at his shirtless form in the mirror. The model frowned. He was so skinny. Adrien sucked in his stomach, frown deepening when his ribs became visible.

“Yikes,” Plagg commented from his perch on Adrien’s head. 

Running a hand over his stomach, Adrien felt the muscles underneath. They were there, small and strong, not quite what they used to be, but they were there. The model sighed. His father had been goading him about losing weight, especially after the fencing incident. Adrien was expected to be slim, it was part of his image. Ordinarily, it did not bother him to be on the smaller side, he was fast and agile, and the work he did as Chat Noir had given him muscles which the cameras ate up. But this, Adrien pinched his stomach, was a new level of smallness, even for him. 

“Father should be happy.” Adrien turned around to look at his back, wincing as he took in the state of his wings. Plagg suppressed a growl, his chosen deserved better. 

The dark ebony of his feathers created a sharp contrast with the white of his back. Slowly, Adrien spread his feathers, biting a lip as he felt the vanes shuffle in an attempt to straighten themselves. As his wingspan grew so did the muscles in his back, the strain evident as they tightened, hard as rocks. Adrien experimentally flapped, sending a pitiful gust of wind through his bathroom and earning a stab of pain down his spine. 

“Shit,” Adrien cursed under his breath, gripping onto the sink. His knuckles turned white with the force. He was a failure, and now all of Paris knew. Thoughts of the helplessness he had felt slipping from the Equalizer’s grip hit him with the force of a tidal wave. He would never be good enough. His father was ashamed of him. Ladybug didn’t trust him to do a simple patrol. He was a terrible son, and just as bad of a partner. 

Suddenly his room felt very small. Adrien backed out of the bathroom. Plagg floated close behind, having flown down after Adrien opened his wings. He knew Adrien had dug himself into a bad headspace, and now he wanted to get out. 

“Plagg, Let’s go on patrol.” 

“But patrol doesn't start for three more hours…” 

Plagg stopped complaining after seeing his chosen’s face. Adrien simultaneously looked on the verge of tears and ready to punch something. It was frightening. Plagg had never seen him quite this distraught before. 

“I suppose it's never early to protect Paris,” Plagg grumbled, hiding his concern with grouchiness, “Just don’t do anything you are going to regret.”

Adrien nodded, “Plagg! Claws out!” 

Relief washed over Adrien with his transformation. Already, the knowledge that he could leave his room was comforting, but not enough to subdue his racing mind. He had to get out of here. Scaling the window, which was still open from his last outing as Chat Noir, Adrien leapt outside. 

The sun was setting, casting everything in shades of gold. The Seine shone like a thousand fireflies, making Chat Noir squint from his perch on a rooftop. The grey clouds that had threatened to dump more snow on the streets of the city of love had dissipated, allowing the cat hero to watch the sky turn from wintery blue-grey to deep black. As the sun dipped below the horizon, Paris began to light up, bathing the streets in a soft yellow glow. Everything was beautiful, and yet Chat Noir didn’t notice. The cat hero's tail swished forcefully, thoughts swirling in his head. He was replaying the Equalizer battle in his head over and over, obsessing about his mistakes and failures. 

He stood up and began pacing the roof. Ladybug had counted on him, and he had not been fast enough to carry out her plan. Luckily, it has worked out anyway, but his failure to act had cost them precious time. 

He needed to be faster. 

Drawing his baton he vaulted away from the Seine, wings splayed out behind him creating an arch-like effect. To onlookers, Chat Noir looked strong and powerful, but the hero felt anything but. He pushed himself harder. He had to be faster. He could not fail Ladybug again. It was his job to protect her, and if he wasn’t fast enough to break an akuma’s bracelet, then how could he trust himself to be fast enough when it really mattered: when she was in danger. Slamming his baton into the ground with more force than necessary, Chat catapulted himself over rooftops. Usually the feeling of springing over Paris gave the cat hero a sense of purpose and put him at ease, but tonight, he was distracted, preoccupied with his thoughts. 

It really shouldn’t have been a surprise when he grossly undershot the space between two rooftops and fell face first onto a civilian's terrace. 

“Damnit!” Chat growled picking himself up from the ground. He threw his baton on the terrace, spitting at it as it rolled to a stop against a sky light. His tail lashed angrily as his thoughts continued to rage against his skull. Not good enough, not good enough, not good enough, not—

“Chat Noir?” A female voice called from behind him. Adrien felt his cat ears swivel towards her, his lashing tail stopping in its violent movements. 

“Is there an Akuma?” The voice asked, uncertainty causing her voice to waver. 

Forcing a smile, the leather clad teen turned to the familiar girl, “No, Marinette, you’re safe.” 

The girl frowned looking from his discarded baton to the hero perched on her railing. This was not the reaction Chat Noir was expecting. The anger that had been brewing in his chest was replaced with uncertainty. 

“Why are you here?” 

Rubbing the back of his neck, Chat Noir replied, “I was just on patrol.” 

Chat Noir was lying to her. She knew better than anyone that he was not supposed to be on patrol tonight. In fact, judging by the look in his eyes, he had been out for a while. 

“I saw a video of your fall on the Ladyblog.”

The cat hero stiffened. Of course Alya had gotten a video of the battle. He looked out over the city, hiding his eyes from Marinette. Hearing that his screw up had been commemorated on the internet for all to see, wasn’t exactly sitting well. Taking his tail in his hands he began to rub it, searching for any kind of comfort that things would be okay. Soon everyone in Alya’s international audience would see what a horrible hero Chat Noir was. 

“It must have been really scary,” Marinette continued, “are you okay?” 

Chat’s ears flattened against his head, answering the question before his voice could. 

He was not okay.

He was scared that Ladybug would put him on the sidelines or worse, ask for a new partner. He didn’t want to lose Plagg, or the freedom he gained from the ring. He was angry at himself for being unable to do his job. He was confused about why Marinette of all people seemed to care more about his feelings than his failure. A tear streaked down his face. Sniffing he wiped it away quickly. He had to stay strong. Before he could tell Marinette he was fine, and brush it off with a joke, he was suddenly being embraced. He looked down in surprise to find Marinette’s pale arms snaked around his waist. 

“It’s okay,” the girl let go of him, allowing him to turn and face her. He was sure his eyes were glassy from unshed tears, but at the moment he didn’t care. She looked up at him, the utmost sincerity shown in her eyes, 

“It's okay to be scared.” 

Marinette watched as her partner took a shaky breath. She knew he was trying to be strong, after all, in his eyes, she was just a civilian. The cat hero only knew her from their run-in with the Evillustrator, and that was years ago. Since then, they had spoken a few more times, but not nearly enough to consider their relationship close. Marinette was close to Chat Noir when she was Ladybug, however they always had to censor themselves so as to not give away their secret identities. 

Early in their superhero days, Marinette had made the decision to keep their identities a secret, much to her partner’s dismay. She had been scared that their enemies would somehow find a way to use the information against them. Marinette never wanted to endanger those she loved, especially with Hawk Moth hell bent on obtaining their miraculouses. He was not above kidnapping their family and friends and holding them as ransom. 

Now, as she watched her partner silently wipe away his tears, she wished she knew how to help him. The blue haired girl hated seeing others hurting, but especially when she knew how much happiness they deserved. Chat Noir did not deserve to feel like this. Biting her lip Marinette asked, 

“Why don’t you sit down? I’m sure you’re hungry from a busy day of protecting Paris. I’ll bring you some of our leftover pastries from downstairs.”

She could practically hear Tikki yelling at her from below the skylight about the importance of keeping her superhero life and civilian life separate, but Marinette couldn’t just leave Chat Noir out in the cold. 

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” the leather clad hero spoke lightly. 

Marinette shook her head, insisting, “We make them fresh every morning! Besides, they will just go to waste if someone doesn't eat them.” 

As if on cue Chat Noir’s stomach growled. The blond hero blushed in embarrassment, averting his eyes from Marinette. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t hungry. The akuma attack had caused him to skip lunch, which meant he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. His father would be furious if he found out his son would be eating such junk food, but that made Adrien all the more hungry for it. 

“If you’re sure…” 

“Yes,” Marinette began making her way to her skylight, “It’s the least I can do for a protector of Paris.” 

Chat Noir felt his ears flatten involuntarily. Ladybug was the protector of Paris, he was just there to make sure she could do her job. A seemingly simple task, however Chat had still failed. After today the cat hero half expected her to ask for a new partner. 

Marinette dropped down into her room, shutting the skylight gently. She shivered, having not realized how cold the outside air was. The poor cat must have been freezing. Climbing down from her bed, the blue haired girl set aside two blankets to bring with her after she got some food. 

“What are you thinking?” Tikki exclaimed, zipping into her chosen’s face. The red kwami crossed her arms, regarding Marinette with a furrowed expression. 

“I’m just bringing him some food.” 

The kwami of creation whined in disapproval, “What about your secret identity!” 

Marinette brushed Tikki off, walking downstairs to her family's personal kitchen. Since her family was finishing locking up downstairs, Tikki followed close behind. 

“It is good for you both to be closer, but I didn’t mean like this. I don’t like it, Marinette.” 

Grabbing some of the leftover croissants and cream puffs, which for whatever reason had not sold well that morning, she made a plate for Chat Noir. The cat had only been getting skinnier since they met, and in all honesty Marinette was beginning to worry that Chat’s family wasn’t able to feed him enough. The teen frowned, adding a few special treats her dad had been experimenting with. They were sure to be good. Tikki settled on Marinette’s shoulder, resigning that her holder had made up her mind. Her stubbornness made her a great Ladybug, however it also made it incredibly hard to change her mind, even when it might be safer just to ask the cat hero to leave. As if reading her thoughts Marinette said, 

“He is my partner. I can’t just leave him.” 

“He doesn't know he is your partner, and if you want to keep it that way you should ask him to leave.” 

Marinette sighed, “It’s not like we’re swapping miraculous stories. I will be careful, I promise.” 

The two climbed back up the stairs. Marinette being extra careful to make sure she didn’t drop the pastries. Being Ladybug had helped her clumsy nature improve drastically, but it would be just her luck to accidentally drop all of these pastries down the stairs. Tikki flew up in front of her, not waiting as she phased through Marinette’s closed door. The teen sighed, she knew Tikki was just trying to keep her safe, but her partner was clearly hurting, and she couldn’t just sit here. What kind of hero would she be if she left her most trusted partner in pain? 

Quietly, Marinette climbed back up to her bed, propping open the sky light and setting down the plate on the floor of the terrace. She was going to call out to Chat, but the sound she heard stopped her. 

A low rumble filled the air, sounding almost like far away thunder. Marinette looked to see the cat hero perched on her railing, knees pulled up to his chest. His wings sat closed behind him hiding most of his body from view. The hoarse vibration appeared to be coming from him. The sound continued, soft, lowly pitched but unmistakable. Chat Noir was purring. 

Marinette ducked back down into her room, going unnoticed by the cat. 

“Tikki!” she whispered, “He is purring? Why? I didn’t know he could do that.”

The red kwami floated up from Marinette’s desk, snuggling into her chosen's pillow, “You said he was upset. He is probably self soothing.” 

A pang of sadness stung the young girl’s heart. Chat Noir had been sad before, she had seen it as Ladybug, but never pressed him. The teen hero hadn’t wanted to force him into sharing if he wasn’t ready, and eventually the happy-go-lucky Chat would return. All of those times, she had never heard him purr. Either whatever had him worked up was really upsetting, or Marinette had been a really bad partner. 

Pressing her lips into a firm line, Marinette grabbed the blankets and popped back up to the terrace, this time making sure her presence was known. The girl pretended not to hear the abrupt cut off of the purr, nor see the large blush that Chat Noir sported. The kitty looked like he had just been caught red handed.

“I brought food and blankets!” Marinette forced her voice to sound cheery, even though she felt far from it. Her partner was hurting, and resisting her attempts to help him. 

Chat hopped down from his perch, suppressing a shiver. While he had been running around the city, the exercise had kept him warm, but now that he was sitting still the night air had seeped the warmth from his bones. He took Marinette’s blanket and wrapped it around himself. 

She giggled as it got caught on his wings, the feathery appendages pulling it up and away from the rest of his body. Adrien felt his breath hitch at the sound of Marinette’s laugh. It was beautiful, and sounded so familiar, but he couldn’t place where he had heard it before. The blond chalked it up to just hearing it at school, but he couldn’t help but feel he had heard it more recently. The teen hero was pulled out of his thoughts by Marinette pulling the blanket gently back around his body. Her face was downturned but judging by the pink tips of her ears she was blushing. 

“You’re very nice,” Chat Noir stated. 

Marinette giggled again. Chat wasn’t sure why the statement had made her laugh, but he liked the sound so much he didn’t really care. 

“It’s no big deal, kitty.” 

Chat Noir’s ears perked up at the nickname, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. 

“Come,” Marinette moved onto the reclining chair, patting the spot next to her, “Sit.” 

The boy obliged, watching with wide eyes as Marinette pulled the other blanket around herself. Once she was situated, she passed him the plate of goodies, taking one for herself so he didn’t feel awkward being the only one eating. Adrien’s clawed hand hovered over the plate, obviously hesitating. He felt weird taking her food without paying. Marinette sighed in feigned exasperation picking up a croissant and pushing it up into his hand. He flinched slightly in surprise, dropping the pastry back onto the plate. 

“Chat Noir!” Marinette gasped, a teasing tone had taken ahold of her voice, “Don’t you know it is rude to put back food after you have touched it.” 

A small grin played across the cat hero’s features. Marinette smiled wider, glad he was feeling good enough to smile. The teen’s ears had definitely perked up a bit, and his tail was no longer lashing back and forth angrily. The blue haired girl took it as a win. 

“Sorry Princess,” Chat took the treat, taking a small nibble out of one end. Marinette raised her eyebrow at the nickname, but continued eating her cream puff. As soon as the buttery, flaky, goodness of the croissant touched his tongue, Chat Noir perked up. He looked to Marinette, blinking slowly then opening his eyes wide. The boy did not have words for how good this tasted. Thankfully the girl sitting across from him seemed to understand his lack of words. 

“That good?” 

Chat nodded, finishing the rest of the pastry in a few bites. The power of food was amazing. After eating his fill of the baked goods, which included the ones Marinette insisted that he try, Chat Noir felt better. Although the ideas of what the future could hold still filled him with worry, eating and sitting with Marinette had made him feel grounded. He was no longer going to drown in his thoughts, and he had his classmate to thank for that. 

“Thank you,” Chat Noir said quietly. He searched Marinette’s face for what she might be feeling but came up short. This was very different from the Marinette he had grown used to. Sure Marinette was kind, but she only recently had been gaining self confidence around his civilian self. For years Adrien has thought the girl had a speech impediment from how she stuttered her words around him, but Nino told him it was because she was anxious around new people. Looking back on their friendship this information did not quite add up. Marinette barely knew Chat Noir, yet she seemed to have no problem talking to him. Further, Adrien had never heard her stutter around anyone else except him. The situation confused him. He resolved to ask Nino later for clarification. 

“Anytime.” Marinette smiled, “You’re always welcome here.” 

The teen was not quite sure what prompted her to say that, but she found she meant it. Seeing Chat Noir without having to maintain her flawless persona as Ladybug was nice. It allowed him to see new sides of her, and vice versa. 

Adrien shivered. Even in his super suit and blanket he was cold, he couldn’t imagine how Marinette must be feeling. She didn’t have a magical being protecting her from the winter chill. The cat hero opened his mouth to ask her if she wanted him to leave so she could go inside but Marinette beat him to speaking. The words, however, surprised him.

“Would you like to come inside for a little bit?” 

Chat opened and closed his mouth, clearly surprised she had asked him inside.

Marinette was not oblivious to the cold, she felt it nipping at her nose and ears with every gust of wind, however, she wasn’t freezing just yet. Usually she tried to avoid the cold at all costs, Tikki hated it, and since they had been paired together for so long, Marinette was starting to dislike the winter months too. However, she was also not oblivious to the way Chat’s lips had begun turning blue with cold, and even if he thought he was being smooth, every time the wind picked up a tiny shiver would be visible in his shoulders. Further, Marinette knew him well enough to guess he probably would not be heading home even if she asked him to leave now.

“It’s just that it’s pretty cold out, and the heat is on down there. I wouldn’t want us to get sick, but if you’re not comfortable with going into my room just forget I said anything. It’s completely understandable. I know it’s not much but it’s cozy. Okay it is a little messy, but there is heat, and more blankets! Also video games, my favorite is Ultimate Mecha Strike III, but I have others. Or we could watch a movie. I don’t know about you, but my school is on winter holiday. What am I saying? You haven’t even said yes, yet. And I’m rambling.”

Chat Noir blinked. He has never heard Marinette speak so much. Spending time with her as his superhero self was really allowing him to see a new side of her. Adrien felt himself smile, 

“If you’re okay with it. I would enjoy a break from the cold.” 

The young girl let out a breath of relief. It clouded in front of her, dancing upwards with the chilly north wind. Nodding, Marinette grabbed the plate and hopped off the lounge chair. Chat Noir was a little slower to follow, folding the blanket neatly before following her towards the trapdoor skylight. In the time he took to cross the terrace, Marinette had tossed her blanket over a sleeping Tikki and called, 

“It will be much warmer in here, Chat Noir.” 

Tikki could scold her later. 

Marinette scooted to the side so the superhero could drop down onto her bed. He lowered himself in slowly, almost if he was afraid to disturb the piece of her room. Butterflies filled Marinette’s stomach. She told herself it was because she had invited a boy into her room and she was embarrassed, totally not because her face was suddenly very close to the aforementioned boy’s butt. 

Being the considerate gentleman he was, Adrien turned to close the skylight, but Marinette stopped him. 

“Your wings,” She gently pushed them off the sill of the skylight. Chat Noir blushed, he hadn’t even realized his feathers had gotten caught on the window. Had he closed it, he would have crushed them for sure. Adrien blamed the error on his poor sense of bodily awareness, especially when it came to his wings. However, something in the back of his mind reminded him that he probably hadn’t noticed because his wings never felt quite right. When something happened to them, like getting caught on something, he barely noticed. The feathery appendages involuntarily drooped, brushing lightly against Marinette’s thigh. 

“Sorry,” Chat Noir pulled away, dropping the skylight rather harshly on the sill. He winced at the thud it made, pulling in his wings as close to his body as he could get them. 

Marinette frowned for a moment. The blue haired teen’s best friend, Alya, was a winged human. When the pair slept over together, Alya would do Marinette’s hair and makeup, whereas Marinette would brush out and wax Alya’s wings. It was part of any healthy avian-human’s routine. Marinette found it incredibly calming for both of them to take part in this grooming. The brush helped to keep any stray feathers aligned, it also worked to pull out feathers that were ready to molt. The wax worked to keep the wings waterproof, which was extremely helpful if it rained. Marinette had definitely taken advantage of Alya’s wingspan as a makeshift umbrella more than once. It also provided a classy sheen, making anyone’s wings look great.

Even when they didn’t sleep over, Alya took care of her wings religiously. It was obvious from the way they looked: amazing. Her hard work paid off. Alya’s feathers were always soft and smooth.

Chat’s wings, however, were brittle. The feeling of his feathers had shocked her. In the cold, they almost felt like shards of ice. Where Alya’s feathers were dynamic and strong, the feathers that currently sat in front of her felt stiff and corrugated. 

“When was the last time you did your wings?” 

“A few days ago,” Adrien shifted uncomfortably. He hadn’t expected Marinette to make fun of him, but he hadn’t expected to be invited inside either. Marinette was turning out to be a lot different from he expected. She was still nice, not everyone was willing to take in a stray, however, if she had seen the video of his fall, shouldn’t she have put two and two together? He knew his wings were poorly maintained. Yet, since they were always hidden, why should he care?

“Can I do them?” 

Chat Noir turned his head sideways, curiosity piqued. This was not what he was expecting. Usually when people saw his wings up close they criticized him. He had read some nasty comments about Chat Noir in the past regarding his lack of flight as well as wing appearance. On one occurrence a civilian had purposefully sought him out just to yell slurs at him. The cat hero had not told Ladybug about that encounter, the last time he had mentioned something akin he thought she was going to kill someone. Thankfully he was saved from having to deal with such comments as Adrien, however knowing that the hatred was going on underneath his nose somehow hurt more. 

“I do Alya’s all the time,” Marinette quickly elaborated, “she's my best friend, and she also had wings. I have all of the right stuff here. I know some people are more open to having their wings done than others but…” 

“Yes.” 

Adrien knew he had just saved Marinette from telling him that his wings needed to be done. It wasn’t new information, but the blond knew not many people enjoyed getting called out for the appearance of their wings. Had it been anyone else asking, Adrien would have fallen into the latter group. Marinette, however, was so sweet, and she looked so concerned about his well being. She did not mean any malice. The hero was sure of it. 

“Okay! I’ll go grab the stuff, feel free to make yourself at home.” 

Marinette smiled as she climbed down the ladder that led to her bed. She was giddy, and she was not sure why. She had done Alya’s wings hundreds of times, and though she loved it, it didn’t quite fill her with the same excitement. Walking down the stairs to the bathroom, Marinette grabbed the jar of wing wax Alya kept for when she visited. The fiery journalist had hunted for hours to find the ‘perfect’ one. Marinette may not have had wings, but she could read ingredients labels of products; most of the waxes had the same ingredients. Alya swore by this brand though, and it smelled incredible, so Marinette was not about to talk her out of it. The teenage girl also took one of the wing brushes. It was a bright pink, but she figured Chat Noir wouldn’t mind. 

After Marinette had left the room, Adrien slowly climbed down to the floor from her bed. She has been accurate in her description on the rooftop. It was cozy, far more inviting than any room in the Agreste Mansion.

Keeping his hands to himself, the cat hero walked around the room, taking in everything he saw. When his eyes fell on the desk he failed to suppress a chuckle, as pictures of his civilian self were covering the wall behind it. He hadn’t known Marinette to be a fan. There were other pictures on the wall as well: Marinette and Alya taking a selfie, their group of four friends sharing a picnic, as well as sketches and designs. Marinette was very talented. 

Taking up residency on her carpeted floor, Chat Noir finally began to warm up. The teen hadn’t realized how cold he had become, but now that he was inside with Marinette, he relished the warmth. He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, this was what it should feel like to be at home. The boy wanted to absorb as much as he could so when he inevitably had to return home, he could remember how nice this had felt. Ears pricking forward, his super hearing picked up the light footfalls of his classmate. Chat Noir opened his eyes. He could not stop the small smile from spreading across his face as she entered the room. 

Marinette blushed. He looked adorable. Legs crossed in a casual fashion, the cat hero looked at the items she held with curious eyes. 

“This was the only brush I had,” Marinette filled the silence. The girl took a deep breath, swallowing the feelings that had swarmed upwards and made her cheeks pink. Chat Noir was her partner, and nothing more, besides, he was completely in love with the mask she wore as Ladybug. Even if she did have feelings for the cat, he would never love her for who she really was. Ladybug was perfect. Marinette, on the other hand, was about the furthest thing from perfect. Lost in her thoughts, Marinette crossed her room to where the hero was sitting. She took a spot behind him, startling as he dramatically adjusted his posture. His back was now straight as a board. The position looked so unnatural on Chat’s usually carefree form, that Marinette couldn’t help but laugh. 

“You can sit comfortably, you know,” Marinette giggled lightly. She leaned out slightly to catch the look on his face. 

Chat Noir’s ears flattened embarrassment. He turned his head, smiling sheepishly at the girl sitting behind him. He was a little nervous, and it was obvious, however, Marinette didn’t comment. 

“Sorry,” He rubbed the back of his neck, “I’ve never had someone else groom my wings before.” 

“Not even your parents?” 

The hero’s breath hitched and Marinette instantly regretted asking the question. In the years she had partnered with Chat Noir, he had always been avoidant on the topic of parents. The heroine had assumed it was because he wanted to protect his identity, but the way his breath caught in his throat told her otherwise. His tail, which had been sitting comfortably on the ground, flew into his hands. She had come to notice the action as Ladybug. Her partner would often grab his tail when he was scared or overwhelmed. Seeing him doing it as Marinette, because of something she had asked, it made her heart sink. 

“You don’t have to answer that,” Marinette said. She began gently working on his wings. The leather catsuit he wore provided the perfect amount of space for the feathery appendages to peek through. Marinette knew this was the magic’s doing, as no regularly made clothing item had wing slits this accurate, nevertheless, the seamstress inside of her still admired the handiwork. 

“I know you have to protect your secret identity, and I really shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.”

Chat Noir sighed, “I’m the only winged human in my family.” 

The boy had said it so softly, Marinette was scarcely sure that she had heard him correctly. Being the only winged person in one’s immediate family was extremely rare. As they had learned in biology the year prior, having wings was a recessive gene. Statistically, it was almost impossible for two non-winged parents to have a winged child, yet, Chat Noir was sitting in front of her saying that was his exact situation. 

“No one ever really taught me how to do my wings,” the black leather tail twisted in the hero’s hands. His eyes steeling over, “My father likes to pretend I don’t have them” 

Marinette was silent for a moment. She busied her hands with his feathers, sighing as the brush caught on the disorganized array. After a few tries of brushing through them, she was forced to resolve to the use of her fingers. Pushing lightly through the top layer of scapular feathers, she worked her fingers through the tangled masses. The hero seemed to lean into her touch, urging her onwards. She gave a small smile, happy that he seemed to be enjoying it. Once she had got them organized enough to brush, she picked up the discarded item and ran it though his feathers. When some of the damaged black feathers began to fall out, Marinette was not surprised. If Chat Noir wanted his wings to recover from whatever had caused this damage, he was going to have to molt. Judging by the state of the rest of his wings, this was just the beginning. 

“What about your mom?” Marinette asked innocently. Memories that the cat hero had been avoiding for years surged to the forefront of his brain. The boy felt tears prick the corner of his eyes, making his vision blurry. 

“She died when I was little,” Chat Noir choked out. His hands curled into fists around his tail. 

It had been years since the death of his mother. Adrien had mourned her in private, as her death also marked the day when his father shut him out. He hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye. The cat squeezed his eyes shut, not noticing the silent tears that leaked down his face. Her funeral had been closed casket, so he hadn’t even gotten the closure of seeing her one last time. To him, she had been healthy one day and gone the next. 

Now that Adrien was older he realized this belief had not been true. According to Nathalie, who had a soft spot for his mother and seemingly only his mother, the woman had been very sickly. She chose to hide her ailments from young Adrien to spare him from worry. Instead, she had left him unprepared for her departure. 

“Oh kitty...” Marinette stopped in her work. The young girl scooted forward. She placed her hands on top of his, effectively stopping the worrisome movement of his hands. “I’m so sorry.” 

Opening his eyes, Adrien sniffled. He pulled his hands out from underneath hers, wiping the tear tracks from his face. True to his nature, the boy forced a smile, “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.” 

In that moment, Chat Noir reminded Marinette a lot of her classmate Adrien Agreste. It was true that both boys had lost their moms at a young age, but what struck her the most was the similarities in their fake smiles. Neither of them smiled with their eyes when they were lying about how they truly felt.  
“Do you want to talk about her?” 

Adrien felt his smile falter. He had never been asked that before. Everyone around him had always bottled up their memories of his mother, so he assumed that's what people did when someone died. He practically had to bribe Nathalie to get the little information he knew out of her. It had not his finest moment. 

While the hero debated her question, Marinette returned to her spot behind him. With every brush, more damaged feathers fell out, and the healthier Chat’s wings looked. Sure, they were still small and fragile, but watching as the damaged feathers revealed new ones gave Marinette hope. 

“She was the most wonderful person I have ever met.” 

Marinette hummed in response, heart already warming with the fondness with which he spoke of the other woman. He clearly admired her very much. 

“No matter what life threw at her, she embraced it with grace and strength. There was nothing she couldn’t do.” 

His tail settled back behind him as he further relaxed into Marinette’s touch. The boy had not expected it to feel as nice as it did. The pain that had hurt his heart at the mention of his mother began to recede as he told Marinette stories about her. These were stories that Adrien was amazed he even remembered. Never before had he been able to talk about his mother so freely, and it felt amazing. 

“She used to play piano for me. I would try to play with her, but usually I would just mess up the song because I liked the way it felt to push the keys. It was fun though, she was so patient with me.”

“She sounds amazing, Chat.” 

“She was.” 

Marinette had moved on the grouping of secondary feathers on each wing. Between working her fingers through the layers and brushing them back into place, quite the pile of molted feathers had accumulated in her lap. The blunette didn’t mind, especially when she heard a familiar low rumbling noise fill the air. 

“Are you purring?” 

“No,” Chat Noir said too quickly. The rumbling was muffled, almost as if the cat hero was trying to hold it in. 

Smirking, Marinette gently scratched his wings, “Oh yeah?” 

The purr had gotten louder as she began running her hands through the feathers. Chat Noir arched his back towards her causing Marinette to laugh. 

“You are such a cat!” 

“Noooo,” Chat Noir turned so he could see her face. She was smiling brightly, and he found himself smiling too. He spoke through his purr causing the vowels to sound like he was rolling them on his tongue. 

“That’s pretty cute.” 

Both parties blushed at Marinette’s comment. The only sound that passed between them was the sound of the, once again, quiet purring. The girl hadn’t meant anything by her comment. It had just slipped out. At least, that was what she told herself. 

Adrien blush only got deeper as he realized that she had called his alter ego cute, and not his model self. Since he began modeling for his father, Adrien had grown accustomed to compliments. Most of them were not sincere, however, as most producers and photographers just wanted you to like them so they could make money off of you. Further, Adrien never acted like himself when he was modeling. He was too worried about upsetting his father or ruining something for the brand. Marinette, however, had complimented his real, authentic self, and it had felt amazing. 

The girl continued working on his wings, finishing his secondary feathers without anymore purr enhancing shenanigans. Secretly she was glad he kept letting out the quiet but relaxing sound even after she gave him the awkward compliment. She read somewhere that cats purr when they felt safe and content. Chat Noir deserved to feel that way, especially after the rough akuma battle. 

“I’m going to start waxing your feathers now.” 

Adrien had thought the feeling of Marinette brushing out his feathers was amazing, but he was not prepared for the way she rubbed his feathers down with the wing wax. A shiver went down his spine as his purr involuntarily grew louder. 

The wax smelled very feminine, like pear flowers and honey, but Adrien didn’t care. It felt warm on his wings. The gel-like sheen it left behind on his feathers brought out undertones that shone in the light. When he shifted, the reflecting colors changed from blue to green. Each feather seemed to have new life to it. Adrien craned his neck around, watching Marinette’s handiwork. He almost didn’t recognize her. One of his wayward feathers was sticking out of her hair haphazardly. She was so focused she hadn’t even noticed. 

“There!” She looked up at him and smiled as she finished rubbing down the last of his primary feathers. He admired her handiwork, genuinely surprised at how nice they looked. 

He spun completely around so that he was facing her. Gently, he reached up with one gloved hand and plucked the feather from her hair. 

“Thank you, Marinette,” he said sincerely. 

Blushing, Marinette stuttered, “Really, it’s no big deal.” 

“Well, it means a lot to me,” Chat pushed, watching as the feather floated down to the ground. 

Marinette stared at her partner, mouth slightly agape. She had never seen him this serious and sincere before. Standing up, Marinette reached a hand down and pulled Chat Noir up with her. He was surprised at her strength, but made no comment on it. 

“Let me make sure I didn’t miss anything.” 

The bluenette watched as he spread his wings. She already knew she hadn’t missed any spots, as she had double checked when they were on the floor, but she wanted to watch his reaction. He was trying to downplay his excitement, but it was clear from the way his eyes were shining he loved it. 

“They look amazing,” Chat breathed. 

He hadn’t realized they had been standing so close. Yet, neither party made a move to step away. Marinette had made him feel at home in the course of a few hours, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time. In front of him the shorter girl seemed to be intoxicating him with his gaze. Her blue eyes drawing him in like shining pools. The hero was vaguely aware of her eyes flickering to his lips, but before he could register what that meant, a notification popped up on her computer. Whatever magic that had been in the air dissipated as Marinette walked over to the desktop. 

Her cheeks were hot as she felt Chat’s eyes followed her to her computer. She wasn’t sure what had come over her. Something about seeing him so genuinely happy had planted a seed in her brain. One which she didn’t want to delve into, especially not when he was still in her room. Marinette bent down to look at the notification, blowing her bangs upward in exasperation. 

“What is it?” The cat hero asked. He had the decency to not look at her butt as she bent over the screen but the fact that the thought had even crossed his mind had his face blazing red. 

“Alya wants to FaceTime,” Marinette shrugged, standing up again, “Something important about the akuma attack today.” 

Suddenly Chat felt a lump form in the pit of his stomach. Some instinct told him it was his fall that was the important news. The reminder that everyone could watch his failure online was not a pleasant one. 

“I should go,” the hero looked down at his feet, already moving towards the skylight above Marinette’s bed. He shouldn’t be here. Closing his wings tightly against his back he began scaling the ladder to reach it. 

“Chat Noir! Wait!” Marinette left the computer on. Alya’s contact popped up on the screen, filling the room with a custom ringtone. 

“I have to go finish my patrol,” his voice was hard and clipped. 

Marinette stepped back, knowing that was a lie. She was supposed to be on patrol tonight, yet she had chosen to stay inside with him. Paris would be fine. The patrols were mostly to boost morale and to make civilians feel safer, not to actually stop crime. The police still had jobs to do. 

Still, it hurt to know that he was lying to her. He hesitated at the skylight, looking down at her once more. Their eyes lingered for a moment, searching for answers that weren't there. 

“Stay safe, kitty,” she said, forcing her voice to sound cheery. 

He winked, sliding back into the shield of lightheartedness he used as Chat Noir, “Don’t you worry Purrincess.” 

With that, he pushed up the window and vaulted off into the winter night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unofficial update schedule it twice a month. I say unofficial because this fic is more for fun than anything.  
> Don't worry though! I will be seeing it through.  
> Thank you for all support on the last chapters :)  
> As always, please share if you enjoyed.  
> \- creative


	4. Dance of the Fox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya calls Marinette to celebrate an opportunity that could launch her career as a professional journalist. Marinette is excited to celebrate with her, but when she realizes that Alya's "scoop" has the potential to hurt Chat Noir, she must decide where her loyalties lie. With the help of Tikki, Marinette sorts through her conflicting emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSA: Lila conveniently does not exist in this AU 
> 
> thank you for your time

“Alya, it's late.”

“Pfft,” The brunette snorted. She adjusted herself so that she was laying on her bed. Unlike Marinette, she was using her phone to call. “It is not like you were going to sleep anytime soon, girl.” 

Marinette sighed. Her friend had a point. Since they were on winter holiday, the girl had fallen out of her natural circadian rhythm. Furthermore, patrolling into the wee hours of the morning as Ladybug did nothing to help her maintain a normal sleep schedule. All of her friends probably thought she was a raging insomniac. 

“Call me out,” the blue haired girl huffed, sliding into her desk chair. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tikki float down from her bed. The magic of the miraculous kept the kwami’s from being captured on camera, however, Marinette was glad Alya was not focused on her screen when Tikki opened the drawer that contained cookies. The sweets were the tiny god’s primary source of sustenance, however since Marinette became Ladybug, she found herself snacking on them too. She worked off a lot of energy saving Paris, and she was definitely not afraid to treat herself with late night cookies. 

Alya turned back to her screen. Marinette suppressed a giggle as the blue light reflected onto the other girl’s glasses, giving her the appearance of a slightly crazed mad scientist. Marinette knew that look. Alya had a scoop. 

“Have you seen my video?” 

“Which video?” 

“My video about the akuma today? I got some really interesting footage of Chat Noir.” 

Marinette felt a knot form in her stomach, memories of her partner's shaking form filled her head. She had seen the video. It made her heart hurt to watch her partner helplessly fall, knowing that she had almost been too late to stop him from certain death. Marinette knew that someone must have gotten footage of his fall, after all it was the twenty-first century, almost everyone had a cell phone. However, she selfishly wished it had been anyone other than Alya. It gave her a rotten feeling to congratulate Alya on capturing her partner during a time she was sure he would rather be forgotten. 

Ladybug knew Chat Noir got bad press simply because he was a winged human. He had told Ladybug about some of his encounters with civilians that were borderline harassment. As a result, Ladybug had made it her mission to protect her partner from this kind of bigoted negativity in any way she could. The poor kitty took enough beating from akumas as it was. 

When she had the chance, she always reaffirmed her trust in Chat Noir, and did not speak highly of those who had spread hate towards winged people. A few years ago, Ladybug had even been recorded by Alya saying some harsh words to someone who had called her partner a slur. Chat Noir didn’t mention experiencing this kind of treatment anymore, so Marinette thought her tactics as Ladybug had at least helped some. Both teens had witnessed enough to last a lifetime, however Marinette was never on the receiving end. A cold feeling of dread began to claw its way into her stomach. If the distrusting Parisians saw the video, would they start to harass her partner again? What would that mean for other winged civilians?

“There was an akuma today?” Marinette feigned innocence.

Alya rolled her eyes but smiled jokingly, “Geez Mari, do you live under a rock or something?” 

Marinette forced a chuckle, “What can I say? I am lost without my favorite blogger keeping me up on all the latest news.” 

The girl on the computer screen flashed a smile before turning serious. The metaphorical rock that had formed in Marinette’s stomach seemed to get heavier. Alya shuffled her wings in the background, the red-orange feathers glowing like embers behind her head. 

“I got pretty good footage of the akuma battle. It was another protester, and before you say anything, yes, I am okay. I had to run some errands for my mom, so I got there after the akumatization happened.” 

Marinette breathed a sigh of relief, glad her friend had been safe. 

“So naturally I followed it from the sky. I'm sending you the original video now.” 

The girl felt the vibration of her phone in her pocket and opened the message. It was a long video file, clearly shot from Alya’s cellphone. Marinette watched herself and her partner chase after the akuma as it headed to the Eiffel Tower. It was weird watching herself, or rather, Ladybug, in action. Marinette did not busy herself with watching reruns of akuma battles. They were not important, after all, she experienced them first hand. Marinette gulped as the camera suddenly swooped, but then remembered that Alya had been flying to record this, it was bound to be a little shaky. The blue haired girl paused it before the end, not wanting to watch Chat Noir’s fall again. 

“You know I’m pretty sure the akuma compelled the news station to be there so it really was not necessary to risk your life to get this footage,” Marinette paused the video, “it is really good though.” 

“I know,” the brunette smirked, “the news station wants to buy some of it!” 

“Wow! Alya that is huge!” 

Marinette’s smile grew wider as Alya did a little happy dance in excitement. The amateur reporter had been on the fringes of the Paris news scene for years, and this opportunity could be a ticket into the professional spheres. It was hard as a winged person to break into the world of media, and although the world had made a lot of progress, not everyone’s minds were open to the idea. Just a few months ago, Alya had called Marinette in tears after a news producer refused to let her intern at his company because he found out she was winged. Marinette was absolutely ready to punch this guy in the face, but in the end, the two girls had just hung out and stuffed their faces with copious amounts of ice cream. 

“Wait,” Alya frowned. “How did you know the akuma took the news crew with them, and not know there was an akuma?” 

It took everything in Marinette’s power to maintain a straight face. She really had talked herself into a hole with that comment. All the girl wanted was to poke fun at Alya for flying head on into danger, but instead she may have just accidentally blown her secret identity. 

“I-I mean,” Marinette looked down at the video still open in her lap. An idea struck her, “I saw it in your video.” 

The girl deftly rewound the video, sighing in relief when the footage did indeed capture Nadja Chamack being taken to the tower by the Equalizer’s smoke cages. Turning the camera to face Alya she played the part back to her best friend. 

“I didn’t think you were gonna watch it that closely,” Alya mused. 

Sighing audibly, Marinette relaxed back into her chair, “Ye of little faith.” 

The girl on the screen chuckled lightly. Alya loved her friend, but sometimes Marinette could be a little ditsy. Even if the girl had a ‘designers eye’ for detail, she often missed some pretty obvious clues. It surprised Alya that Mari had noticed something occurring in the background, especially when the shot had been focused on Ladybug and Chat Noir. Then again, Marinette always knew how to impress others. It was part of the reason she was so well liked by their class. 

Marinette turned serious as the thoughts of Chat Noir returned to the forefront of her mind. Alya had always been a hardcore Ladybug fan, hence the name of her blog, however, she also shared a connection with Chat Noir, as they both had wings. The blogger was not stupid. She had to recognize the possible repercussions publishing the video to national television. 

“Are you sure you want to sell it?” 

Alya sighed, suddenly looking much older in the reflection of the blue light, “I know this footage isn’t exactly showcasing Chat Noir’s skill set, but at the same time, I think it is important that people see it.” 

Frowning, the teen watched her friend through the screen. Clearly this hadn’t been an easy decision for her. After all, it was one thing to post the video on her blog: she had control of comment moderation, and could change the context of which her viewers saw it. Marinette knew Alya would never purposefully do anything to hurt the winged community, but having your footage broadcasted on air was a huge accomplishment. 

“They said they were just going to keep the reporting objective,” Alya took a deep breath, “I have to trust that they will be unbiased. The girl I spoke with over the video chat was winged… At least I know it is not just going to be a bunch of normies in the room, even if that’s all we see on the screen.” 

Marinette snorted at Alya’s choice of words. The brunette had a point though, it was reassuring to know that there were winged people on the set, looking out for each other. Although there was yet to be equal representation on screen, at least there was some hope for off of it. Marinette hoped that everything would turn out all right. Alya deserved to be recognized for her work. She always sought the truth, even when it was ugly. 

Pulling Marinette out of her thoughts Alya commented, “I was hoping that you, Nino, Adrien, and myself could watch the footage together when it airs.”

Marinette nodded, suppressing her smile at the mention of Adrien. She wanted to celebrate this milestone with Alya, however she couldn’t help but get excited at the prospect of Adrien coming to their little get together. 

“I was going to suggest my place, but my mom is having guests over all day so that is out. Adrien’s dad won’t let him go to Nino’s house for god knows what reason.” 

“Did you call me just to ask if we could use my house for this? Is that all you think of me?” Marinette sighed dramatically, placing one hand over her heart. Alya suppressed her giggles on the other end of the phone, 

“Exploit my best friend for her awesome house and parent’s baked goods? I would never!” 

Marinette laughed. Alya always managed to make her laugh, a trait which she admired greatly. Marinette was so lucky to have such amazing friends.

“My parents should be fine with it. Maybe we can even help in the bakery for a little bit after the showing.” 

“OMG,” Alya’s wings opened behind her, “that would be so much fun.”

“Do you think that Adrien’s dad will let him come?” Marinette worried her bottom lip. She knew that Gabriel had been restricting Adrien's freedoms due to the increased akuma activity and protests. Although the boy was almost eighteen, Gabriel seemed to think he was still a reckless teen. In Marinette’s memory, she couldn’t recall anytime the boy would have done something to deserve such a tight leash, however, it was not her place to say anything. She was just a baker’s daughter, after all. Sighing as she focused back on the conversation at hand, it would be really unfortunate to have the viewing party without Adrien. 

“I hope so,” Alya shrugged, “he hasn’t responded to any of the messages in the group chat yet, but he is probably just busy.”  
Frowning Marinette glanced at the few pictures of Adrien she had on her wall. The collection toned down quite a bit since she had the self realization that her obsession was actually hurting their relationship. Now, she just kept her favorites up. If anyone asked her why she had them, they were strictly for style inspiration. The teen recalled their time together at the photoshoot. Adrien hadn’t had his phone on him then, but there was no reason he shouldn't be home by now. 

Grimacing, Marinette realized she had completely ditched him in the bathroom of the store during the akuma attack. She would have to text him later and apologize, probably think up some lame excuse that would only make their budding friendship suffer. Balancing Ladybug and Marinette could be very difficult sometimes. 

“Cheer up girl,” Alya called to her friend, pulling the teen out of her reverie, “At least his dad hasn’t said no yet.” 

“I know,” Marinette huffed, “I’m just worried about him. It’s almost 12, he should at least have gotten home by now.” 

“He might have a night photoshoot,” Alya reasoned, “or maybe he was just really tired from today. I know it's hard for you two insomniacs to believe, but sometimes we actually need to sleep.” 

“Ha ha,” Marinette rolled her eyes. Alya did have a point though. Gabriel Agreste had scheduled photoshoots at the weirdest times, and Adrien had about as consistent a sleep schedule as Ladybug. He could be tired, or working. 

Marinette had stopped trying to figure out the method to Gabriel Agreste’s planning, and she knew Adrien had too. At this point, she just assumed the man was a little bit crazy. He may produce some of the finest clothes in all of Paris, but he was as consistent as rolling waves. She didn’t know how Adrien did it. He never complained, and always seemed happy, even with his father alternating between phases of salutary neglect and virtually no spare time. Frowning once again, Marinette realized that she had thought the same thing about Chat Noir until tonight. 

I voice off screen called to Alya. Judging by its pitch, one or both of her little twin sisters had just woken up. The brunette sighed, clearly agitated her call was being interrupted.

“Check the group chat for more information,” Alya pinched the bridge of her nose and soon the frame was filled with the faces of Ella and Etta Césaire. The twins giggled and waved at Marinette. Even in her concern for her blond friend, Marinette found their laughter contagious. Smiling, she waved back with a smile. Their matching auburn wings obscured Alya from sight. 

“Hi Marinette,” They said in unison, simultaneously fighting Alya for control of her phone. 

“You are supposed to be asleep,” Alya pushed through her sisters’ feathers, regaining control of her phone and the situation. Marinette watched, chucking. Alya turned to her best friend, “Don’t laugh! You’re encouraging them!” 

This proceeded to make Marinette laugh harder and soon Alya joined in. From what she could see from her screen, the whole situation was just hilarious.

“Come on you two,” Alya said, all traces of anger or resentment had left her body. Sometimes Marinette wished she had a sister, especially one like Alya. She was so loyal and brave, always supporting her family even when her siblings annoyed her. Alya stood by their sides through thick and thin. Marinette loved her parents, but she couldn’t help but feel lonely looking at the three girls squeezing to fit into the camera frame. 

“Say goodnight to Marinette. I’ll tell you stories until you fall asleep.” 

The twins cheered, chorusing a “Goodnight Marinette” before scurrying back to their room. Alya sighed turning back to her friend through the screen, 

“We can talk about it tomorrow. Thank your parents for letting us use their house! Try and get some sleep!”

“Goodnight Alya,” Marinette waved to the screen before ending the call. 

Sighing, the girl leaned back in her desk chair once again. Now that her room was silent, save for the sound of Tikki’s quiet munching from the cookie drawer, Marinette had the space to think about her encounters with Chat Noir. 

Today, she had seen sides of him which she had never seen before. The black cat hero was much less two-dimensional than he led people to believe. Even Marinette had been fooled, and she was supposed to be his equal, his partner. They were supposed to trust each other, be each other’s other half. Yet, Chat had been hiding a portion of himself for years. 

“Tikki?” the blue haired girl called. 

“Yes, Marinette?” 

“Why didn’t Chat Noir fly when the akuma dropped him?” 

Tikki paused for a moment. She floated over to her chosen, landing on her shoulder. Marinette was by no means stupid. Tikki knew that Marinette was avoiding coming to the conclusion on her own because she cared about Chat Noir, more than she even realized. Tikki had felt the same way about Plagg when they were first brought into existence. Her black cat counterpart may be smelly and dramatic, but he had a large heart. It had taken Tikki eons to realize that. Her relationship with Plagg was like two sides of a coin, they had to work in tandem to succeed. 

It made Tikki happy to know that Marinette and Chat Noir were getting to know each other outside of the high stress environment of an akuma attack. Yet, the kwami feared that things would get dangerous if they found out the other’s identity. Marinette had grown a lot from her inability to function around Adrien Agreste, however, Tikki worried if her holder knew the truth, it would completely undo all of that development. They needed to protect Paris, not be distracted by their teenage hormones. 

“I’m not sure,” Tikki nuzzled her chosen’s cheek, “what do you think?”

“I don’t know. At first I thought he was just looking for my attention since we had technically finished our jobs, but that panic attack…” 

“It seemed real,” the red kwami finished. Although she hadn’t been physically there, her mental connection with Marinette had alerted Tikki as to what was happening. Based on the emotions the kwami had felt when in the suit, and what Marinette had already told her about the attack she was able to piece two and two together. 

“Alya thought it was weird that Chat never flew,” Marinette stood up from her desk chair. The teen began pacing the room. She pulled her hair out of its signature pigtails, allowing the wavy locks to cascade down her shoulders. The girl continued talking, 

“I never asked him about it because he has alway had his baton, and since I don’t have wings, I can’t really judge him. It wasn’t my place to intervene and question him about a personal choice.” 

Tikki bobbed behind Marinette, listening to her rambling with a furrowed brow. 

“You got to see his wings up close tonight,” Tikki piped up, “what did you think then?” 

Remembering the unnatural way his feathers had felt when they accidentally brushed against her, Marinette shivered. 

“I have never seen feathers with that much damage before.” 

“He didn’t seem to know how to take care of them properly,” Tikki added, nodding. 

The teenager frowned. He mentioned his dad not being very thrilled with the idea that he has wings. Marinette hoped that had nothing to do with the damage to Chat Noir’s feathers, however she couldn’t discard the idea. The way he had tensed up when mentioning his father was sharp, especially when compared to the soft, aching hurt he had expressed over his mother. As much as she hated to admit it, the idea that Chat’s father was somehow related to his damaged feathers would not be uncommon. It was an unfortunate truth about their world, but winged people were more likely to experience abuse or harassment in their lives. 

“Tikki,” Marinette sat abruptly on her chaise lounge opposite her desk. Her blue eyes were wide as she imagined her partner in horrible situation after situation. Shaking her head, she tried to rid herself of the mental images but they kept attacking the space behind her eyelids. Crossing her arms she dug her fingernails into her biceps, grounding herself from the intrusive thoughts. The explosive imaginary visions did not occur often, but when they did, Marinette was left reeling. It was hard to remember that they were just inside her head. 

“Marinette,” Tikki flew into her chosen’s line of sight. The kwami knew the teenager had probably thought herself into a dark place. Allowing her imagination to fuel her anxiety was one of Marinette’s many unfortunate talents, “You don’t know what is happening in Chat Noir’s civilian life. You have to trust that he would come to Ladybug if he needed help. Plus, if something is going on, he has most likely surrounded himself with other people who can help him.” 

“But—”

“Do you trust Chat Noir?” 

Marinette blinked. Of course she trusted Chat Noir. He was her partner. They understood each other. They had each other’s back, no matter what. She trusted him with her whole heart. 

“Yes.” 

“Then trust him to know when to ask for help.” 

Biting her lip, Marinette nodded. Tikki had a point. She had to trust her partner. 

As she walked back across the room to her bed, she looked up at the skylight. The moon shone through the window pane, falling across the wrinkled sheets on her bed like a silver gown. She resolved to try and get a better feel for his situation as Ladybug. Marinette wouldn't be able to live with herself if she didn’t at least try to help Chat with whatever he was going through. The teen settled into her sheets, relaxing into their warmth. Tikki landed wordlessly on the pillow next to her. 

“But what if he doesn't realize it until it is too late?” she whispered. Pulling a pillow to her chest, she stared out at Tikki’s form. 

“Plagg has dealt with these things before. He will be there for Chat Noir,” Tikki soothed.

Marinette wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or horrified at this information. On the one hand, she was glad her kitty was not completely alone, but on the other hand, she knew the darkness that the statement implied. If Plagg knew how to handle situations where his chosen was in imminent danger outside the suit, what had happened to past Chat Noirs? Further, her kwami’s nonchalance about the situation left the teen with a sour taste in her mouth. 

“I care about him, Tikki.” 

The kwami of creation couldn’t meet her chosen’s eyes. As much as she cared about Plagg, and hated the possibility of him losing another kitten, especially when he had taken such a liking to this one, she had a responsibility to Marinette. It was her job to protect her wielder, just as it was Plagg’s job to protect his. She sympathized with Marinette’s want to help Chat, but with Hawk Moth still on the loose, it was too dangerous. With Ladybug being the only Miraculous wielder with the ability to purify akumas, and Marinette being the current guardian of the Miraculous, they couldn’t afford to be side tracked. Tikki had to uphold her duty to the balance of the world. 

“I know you do, Marinette,” The kwami sighed, still not meeting the teenager’s eyes.

They were so young. It was unfair of Master Fu to have put such a heavy burden on the two teens. Yet, there was nothing Tikki could do about it. This was the way it had to be. Tikki loved Marinette. The girl would always have a special place in her heart along with all of her past holders, but Tikki could not let that love jeopardize the bigger picture. Ladybug and Chat Noir had grown into formidable opponents for Hawk Moth. They were much stronger than they had been three years ago. Their partnership had come a long way. Tikki did not want to see the precarious position of balancing the interactions between their different identities pull them apart. Their camaraderie made them more powerful, and Tikki could not, in good conscience, encourage something that would risk that. The miraculous were put into circulation to defeat Hawk Moth, not stir up complicated love squares. After fighting with Chat Blanc, Tikki was sure Marinette understood the risks as well. 

But she was still just a kid. Tikki’s mind provided again, rather unhelpfully. The kwami crossed her arms, upset that she couldn’t make this easier on Marinette. The girl had such a big heart. 

Swallowing the guilt in her throat, Tikki continued. When she was in doubt of what to say she always reverted to vague reassurances, lucky for the kwami, Marinette tended to respond extraordinarily well to them. 

“I know you will do the right thing. Paris needs both Ladybug and Chat Noir.” 

Marinette mulled over the little god’s words. 

Tikki was right, she would do the right thing. Chat Noir needed support. Whether it was as Ladybug, Marinette, or a combination of both, she would be there for her kitty. Tikki was right. Paris needed both Ladybug and Chat Noir. Marinette could not do her job without him. Even if Tikki wasn’t super supportive of her civilian interactions with Chat, she had to make sure the hero of Paris was okay. If he happened to come to her as Marinette, she knew Tikki would not be able to argue if she pulled that logic. 

“I will try my best,” the blue haired girl allowed herself to relax. Sighing into the pillow still clutched to her chest, Marinette closed her eyes. As her mind wandered she couldn’t help but think back to Adrien. Stretching a hand out towards her previously discarded phone, she opened her messages. Her sky blue eyes reflected brightly in the backlight. Tikki turned away from the onslaught of bright, burrowing into one of Marinette’s other pillows. The action caused Marinette to smile lightly. With a kiss planted on Tikki’s turned head she turned the brightness down. The kwami giggled, turning back towards her chosen with ease. The guilt she had previously felt lessoned. Marinette was strong. She could handle this. 

“What are you doing?” The kwami asked. The god of creation was tired after fighting the akuma, they seemed to be getting more draining as Hawk Moth spent more time with his miraculous, but she wanted to stay awake with her chosen. 

“I’m checking the group chat, like Alya suggested, and then I’m going to text Adrien an apology for leaving him in that shop during the Akuma attack.” 

Tikki nodded, looking over Marinette’s shoulder comfortably. The teen scrolled through her friend’s group chat, rolling her eyes at a cheesy meme Nino had sent. She assumed the main purpose of it was an attempt to get Adrien to respond but judging by the fact that the blond was still awol, it has not been successful. 

“I will never understand those two’s taste in memes,” Marinette sighed, tilting her screen so Tikki could see the early 2012-esque cat meme. It was complete with a rainbow background and bottom text. 

Tikki giggled, “I think it is kind of funny.” 

“That is objectively false,” The teen deadpanned. Tikki smiled at Marinette. Even though the girl had schooled her face into one of impasse, her eyes gleamed with mirth. She may pretend to be a meme snob, but Nino’s (semi) ironic use of the 2012 format did cause her some humor. 

Turning her attention back to the other messages on the group text, Marinette saw that Alya had in fact pitched the viewing party already assuming that they could hold it at Marinette’s house. The teen snorted, liking the message to confirm that she was okay with it. Scrolling further down she saw that Nino had agreed to come; Alya had replied with a kissy face gif. Rolling her eyes, Marinette continued scrolling, finding out the time and date from Alya and Nino’s exchange. 

They were a cute couple, but they had the bad habit of flirting in the group chat instead of in their private messages. Both Adrien and Marinette had the chat set to “do not disturb” for this very reason, as more than once their phones had vibrated to the point of disturbing the peace. Marinette was usually the one to remind them to get a room. They always apologized, yet, they continued to make the mistake. At this point, Marinette was incredulous that it was an accident. 

Adrien rarely texted in the group chat. He had a strong preference to call or video chat, so he was usually quiet about the whole ordeal. The boy mostly responded with the quick reaction built into the messaging platform. Marinette never really understood why the boy didn’t like texting. In her opinion it was faster and more convenient, further Adrien wasn’t that talkative when they did have group video chats. However, she didn’t judge him for the preference. During one of their calls he had tried to explain to them why he preferred them, but was overshadowed by Alya’s bias towards texting. For a journalist, sometimes she was not a very good listener, but in the end they had all laughed it off. It had been a while ago, so Marinette couldn’t remember exactly how the event unfolded, but she was pretty sure Nino had done a pretty good job moderating between his best friend and his girlfriend. Alya could be a force to be reckoned with, especially in debate mode, and Adrien, although less scary, could be just as intense. 

After catching up on the rest of the messages, she opened her direct message with Adrien. The last time they had chatted privately had been about a week ago. They had both been up at some ungodly hour and fell into a conversation about which superhero was the best. Marinette had vehemently argued that Chat Noir was the best, but Adrien had been unswayed in his pro-Ladybug stance. They were both clearly sleep deprived, as the further their discussion went, the more typos Marinette had committed and the longer Adrien’s ranting had become. It was amazing how much that boy knew about Ladybug. 

Marinette was flattered that he admired her superhero self enough to argue on her behalf. Had she had this conversation at the height of her Adrien obsession, she might have had heart palpitations, but that night, she had simply allowed Adrien to indulge in his inner Ladybug fan. She didn’t think Adrien was crushing on Ladybug, per se, after all, he and Alya were both avid “LadyNoir” shippers. However, he definitely had a strong admiration for the heroine. 

She smiled, opening the chat box with one finger. 

“What are you gonna say?” Tikki yawned. Her eyes had become half lidded but she remained awake. 

“I am going to start with an apology,” Marinette typed as she spoke, “then I am going to say that my parents called me from the bakery and that they were super worried because they had seen the news about the akuma. So naturally I had to run home to help them and ease their worries.” 

The teen bit her lip, thump hovering over the send button. She recalled how pale Adrien had looked as they ran into the abandoned storefront. He had looked sick. Maybe that was why he wasn’t responding to their messages. Frowning Marinette added, “Hope you are feeling okay” 

Before she could stop herself she added a pink heart emoji, one she often used with Alya and in the group chat. As it was sent, she convinced herself she meant it in a concerned friendly way, not a ‘I still have a crush on you’ way. Turning her phone to sleep mode she plugged it into her charger before she could overthink the text. 

She admired Adrien, nothing more. They were just friends, and that is all they would ever be. The blond had made that fact very clear every time she had tried to flirt with him in the past. Marinette had accepted that, she was content with their friendship. She genuinely wanted Adrien to be happy, and if that wasn’t with her, that was okay. 

As she settled into her bed her mind drifted to another blond.

Chat Noir.

He had looked so fragile as he perched on her balcony. The cool winter wind seemed to bite into his pale skin. Even though she knew him to be a strong hero, he had looked small. Tired. She recalled the way his shoulders had tensed with every gust, and his feathers shivered on their own accord. If Marinette herself did not know how the suits felt, she would have thought the poor cat was crazy. 

Luckily, they did provide some warmth, however, for the hero to have been feeling the wind that strongly, he had to have been out for quite some time. As their kwami’s tired with their transformations, they began to direct their power to the more important things. Since the heroes usually were quite active in the suits, things like temperature regulation were the first things to wane. This usually only occurred after long, extended use, or after the use of their power ups. Judging by the full paw print on his ring, however, Marinette guessed the cat hero had just been out for hours. 

On the one hand, she was irked that he had gone out on patrol when she had specifically stated that she would take care of it, but on the other hand, she was worried. Why was Chat Noir staying transformed for so long? 

Rolling over in her bed, she clutched her pillow tighter. She couldn’t think about that now, or else she would be up all night. 

Tikki’s soft snores filled the room. Their steady rhythm reminded her of Chat Noir’s contented purr. Marinette uncurled herself from around the pillow, allowing herself to imagine that the snores were in fact the calming sound of her kitty. The teen wished she could bottle up the sound and play it over and over again. After hearing the happy rumble, she understood why her kitty had been using the vibrations as a way to soothe himself. They were extraordinarily calming, albeit more so when they were light and full, not hollow and sad. 

She couldn’t help but smile, remembering the way the tips of his human ears had blazed pink with embarrassment. Based on that reason alone, Marinette was sure she was one of the only people to hear the sound. The teen knew she had never heard it as Ladybug, and she assumed Chat didn’t go purring in every girl’s home at night. 

He may be a pun loving flirt, but he was not stupid. He recognized that if anyone were to see him hanging out with civilians, that information could get back to Hawk Moth. The implications of which could be disastrous. What he did out of the costume, however, Marinette couldn’t speak for. Secretly, she liked the idea that she was the cat hero's only late night confidant. She would never admit it out loud, especially to Tikki, but she cared about the leather clad boy. More than she initially realized. 

A warmth spread across her face, flowing down into her belly as she remembered how he had arched his back into her touch. He seemed so desperate, so longing for her hands on his body. Her face flushed at the thought.

Scolding herself, she reminded herself that he had never had his wings groomed by someone else before. Not that Marinette knew from personal experience what it felt like to have her wings groomed, as she had none, but she assumed it was a pleasant experience. It had to be nice to be rid of the extra weight of damaged feathers. And Chat had a lot of damaged feathers. Plus, his purring supported the notion that the grooming felt nice.

Settling her wayward thoughts, Marinette shut her eyes. If she was going to help support her kitty though whatever was happening in his life, she had to at least get a few hours of sleep. Tikki had stopped her snoring, but the sound of soothing purrs still reverberated in her memory. With a small smile, Marinette slipped into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 
> 
> Lots of you guys commented on the last update talking about your pets, and I love animals so if you want to send me pics my ig handle is @creatibug. Obviously, you can chat with me on there too, if you would like. I'm just shamelessly giving my own account a promo. 
> 
> As always, share if you enjoyed :) 
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> xoxo  
> \- creative


	5. Bond and Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his late night jaunt as Chat Noir, Adrien wakes up feeling better but is still not quite himself. In attempt to gain his Father's favor, and be allowed to go to a viewing party with friends, he decides to get a head start on his day. Plagg is worried that Adrien is pushing himself too hard, as the boy finds himself quickly overwhelmed with the world. In a rare display of affection, Plagg lets Adrien know he is not alone. This moment is interrupted, however, by Nathalie who informs Adrien that his father wants to see him. Although Adrien is nervous to face his father, he channels his inner Chat Noir in order to push Gabriel to answer some burning questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- minor cursing

Adrien groaned, once again, waking up to the pain in his back. It had been sore when he had come home after spending time with Marinette, but not sore enough to keep him from crashing onto his bed and falling asleep. He had welcomed the dreamless abyss with great pleasure, not even rousing when Plagg accidentally knocked the lid to his camembert onto the hard floor with a clang. His body, however, seemed to think that the few hours of sleep he had gotten was plenty before waking him up once again. 

The blonde was not surprised. This had become such a large part of his routine that he almost forgot what it felt like to get a full eight hours of sleep. Drawing one hand across his face, he reached for his phone which was sitting on his bedside table. He was not sure how it got there, but frankly he didn’t care. The teen turned it on, squinting against the harsh glow. It was four in the morning. Adrien sighed, he supposed it was better than the two hours of sleep he had gotten the night before. 

Sitting up gingerly he grimaced as his wings adjusted to being upright once more. They still held the sheen of when Marinette had cared for them, causing their green tinted luster to reflect in the moonlight. The black feathers blended into the darkness of the room. If it hadn’t been for the soreness, he would almost consider them beautiful. 

“You okay, kid,” Plagg, who had stirred at the movement, hovered next to the boy. He was nervous that they were going to have a repeat of last night, and didn’t want Adrien to be alone again. The black kwami was still cursing himself for not waking up sooner. 

“I think so,” Adrien craned his neck to see his back, wincing when he saw twin bruises dancing across his skin. They crossed under where his wings protruded from his scapulae; the purple stood out harshly against his pale skin, angrily protesting the rough treatment from Equalizer. Adrien figured that his neck probably looked similar. He could still feel the phantom grip of the akuma crushing his windpipe. Shivering, Adrien absentmindedly rubbed his hand over his neck, thankful that Ladybug’s cure had taken care of most of the damage. 

“Do you think you can go back to sleep?” 

Sprawling across his stomach, Adrien rested his head on folded arms. His wings relaxed, folding slightly open as they settled across his back. The primary feathers settled over his lower back like a blanket, providing a layer of unexpected comfort. For the first time in a long time, the movement felt natural. It was amazing what a simple, and proper, wing grooming could do. 

Logically, Adrien knew he should sleep. It was not often that the teen got to wake up without a pressing matter to attend too; while his back hurt, it wasn’t unbearable. Yet, his mind whirred with memories of his day. If he was a robot, he was sure Plagg would be able to hear the buzzing of electronics firing inside of him. It would make things easier. As weird as the idea was, at least Adrien would no longer have to struggle to explain the too fast, yet too slow energy of his thoughts. 

Plagg settled on top of Adrien’s head, waiting patiently for his chosen to answer. The black kwami knew that it sometimes took the boy a few minutes to find the right words. Plagg had never thought anything of the quirk, it was just another part of Adrien. The extra time taken to form sentences did not matter to the tiny god, after all, he was immortal, he had all the time in the world. What did bother him, however, was how no one else seemed to want to wait for Adrien. His father usually gave him scripts to memorize before any public media event, claiming that it was to insure an eloquent view of the brand. Adrien always complied to the scripts, he did not suspect any ill intent. His father was, in Plagg's words, an “anal retentive” about his brand, so it made sense that he wanted every public appearance to be perfect. However, Adrien didn’t see the exasperated looks his father sent his way when he took a little too long to respond, or the practiced sigh of forced patience when Adrien stumbled over his words. Over the years, these moments had become few and far between. The kwami suspected that subconsciously Adrien knew that his father thought less of him when he struggled with words, but that was just Plagg’s theory. Adrien had grown quite a bit in the past years. He fit quite well into the mold his father had forced him into. Not that the kwami paid attention when Adrien went to business meetings, but as the model had gotten more mature, the revenue from clothes he modeled tripled. Whether he realized it or not, Adrien drove the Agreste Brand

And yet, Gabriel still pushed him for more: adding new diet restrictions, designing special wing binders to make Adrien’s wings disappear. The more his father asked of him, the more Adrien’s mask slowly wore away. The perfect smile he used to flash effortlessly no longer reached his eyes, and the previous night had been an indicative sample of how his wings were doing. He may have been hiding it well, but Plagg saw the truth. The black cat was not sure how much more his chosen could take. 

Plagg sighed, purring lowly from his perch on Adrien’s head. The soft blond locks cascaded haphazardly into the boy’s face eliciting a snort of annoyance. While the sound was that of annoyance, Adrien couldn’t help but smile. He brushed his hair out of his eyes, happy that Plagg was snuggling close to him. 

“I think my brain is going too fast for more sleep.” 

Plagg hummed, pretending like he understood what the boy was talking about. The pair lapsed into comfortable silence. The kwami amped up his purring, hoping the sound would lull Adrien to sleep. The poor boy definitely did not get enough. Sometimes if Adrien was feeling lonely or uneasy Plagg could get him to sleep with the sound, but tonight Adrien seemed wired. 

“Why did Marinette offer to do my wings?” 

“Cause you do a shitty job at grooming them,” Plagg answered without missing a beat. 

Adrien scoffed, “Ha ha, hilarious,” ruffling his hair to dislodge the now comfortable cat. 

The teen knew Plagg well enough to understand he was joking, but there was some truth in the kwami’s words. It was difficult to reach the full span of feathers without help. His restricted mobility did not make the job any easier. Turning his back in such a way often caused the pain to increase, which was another reason why Adrien did not groom his feathers very often. The boy liked to think he managed, especially because he was self taught, but Marinette did a better job than he ever had, and she didn’t even have wings. 

Plagg flew out of reach of his chosen fingers yowling dramatically, “I am being attacked!” 

“Says the one who insulted my grooming skills.” 

Adrien scooped up the kwami, ignoring the way his spine arched backwards in protest. The sudden movement from laying down to sitting up was not appreciated, but the boy hardly even noticed. It had become second nature to just ignore his wings. With Plagg too busy playfully circling around Adrien’s fingers, the jerky movement went without comment. 

Lacking any form of hesitation, Adrien brought the kwami to his cheek, nuzzling him affectionately. He was sure that if he had been transformed he would be purring up a storm, but at that moment in time, Plagg was doing enough for both of them. 

“Softie,” Adrien teased. 

It was rare that Adrien and Plagg played like this. His kwami was not prone to such displays of affection. Usually their interactions were either arguments over Adrien’s father, Plagg complaining about cheese, or Adrien rambling about Ladybug. Although, the rambling had considerably lessened as he had gotten older. Plagg had also stopped pretending he wasn’t a sucker for hugs. 

“I single handedly caused the fall of Rome,” Plagg forced out through his purring. His voice came out all rumbly and soft, a sound that made Adrien’s wings flap in delight. The blonde winced slightly, as the movement reminded him of his sore back, but he simply couldn’t stay still. The sound was too nice. Plagg grinned up at his chosen, trying and failing to sound tough, 

“I am the powerful god of destruction. I am not a softie.” 

“What you are saying and what you are doing are very different things.” 

“I like to keep 'em guessing,” Plagg flipped imaginary hair over his shoulder. Adrien rolled his eyes. 

“Now come on,” Plagg floated up from Adrien’s hands, eyes turning the moonlight into saucers as it reflected in his pupils, “Let me look at your back.” 

Adrien opened his mouth to protest that he was fine but Plagg interrupted, 

“Don’t pretend like I didn’t see you wince when you moved them earlier. I know something happened during the akuma battle today. If you don’t want to tell me, that is your choice, but at least let me make sure you didn’t break anything.” 

Conceding, Adrien shifted in his bed, spinning the ring on his finger absentmindedly. He still had yet to talk about his fall with anyone. Ladybug had seemed pretty upset with him, and understandably so. His secret had almost cost them their miraculous. 

Plagg prodded the bruising under his wings gently, stopping immediately when Adrien tensed underneath his touch. 

“You okay, kid?”

The blond nodded. If he spoke he knew his voice would betray the tumultuous thoughts that spun through his head. There was no time to be weak, especially when he had to re-prove his worth as a hero to Ladybug. It wasn’t that the bruising hurt, at least, not in the grand scheme of pain Adrien had experienced. The feeling of failure, however, that was like a knife in his chest. 

He could still remember the blinding panic he had felt as Equalizer released the hold around his neck. Within seconds, he had gasped to fill his lungs, only to have the air rush out of them with the realization that he was falling. 

“Tikki did a good job at patching you up. You probably cracked a rib doing... whatever you were doing during the fight.” Plagg zipped under Adrien’s wings, “The only thing left is surface bruises.” 

Plagg knew that Tikki always made sure their holders were okay before healing the rest of the city, but restoration used a lot of power. There must have been lots of people affected by the akuma, or else the bruises would not be remaining on his chosen’s skin. A similar thing had happened with Miraculer, although that had been due to the concentrated amount of damage, not so much the amount of it. Adrien’s chest had been black and blue for a week after that fight. 

“Is it noticeable?”

“When you’re shirtless, yes,” Plagg settled on one of Adrien’s folded legs, “but you could easily hide the marks on your back with a shirt, the ones on your neck are going to be more difficult.” 

“Do you think Marinette saw them?” 

The ring on Adrien’s finger spun quickly around his fingers. His green eyes stared unfocused at a spot on his floor. Marinette was just a civilian. It had been irresponsible of him to stay on her balcony and even more so to go inside. He was grateful that she had given him refuge from winter cold, and the thorough wing grooming was phenomenal, but if anyone had seen him, it would have disastrous repercussions. 

If this got out to the press, in addition to his fall, Chat Noir was going to have a lot on his plate. He was sure that Tom Dupain could take care of him without any help— the Weredad Akuma was evidence enough— however, the cat knew Monsieur Dupain was a much better person than the people who tried to hurt winged humans. If the man was angry with him it would be for a good reason, not because he had wings. 

Those were the people he was worried about. The assholes that forced him to triple check he was alone before transforming. The ones that praised Ladybug’s work, only to turn around and call him slurs. Ladybug’s association with him had earned her bad press as well, although it was much less. Ladybug was a hero, after all. Most of her “unflattering” articles were about “the benefits of working with winged people,” as if they were some kind of therapy dog or trendy diet. She was not happy about those. His Lady tried her best to help, but she was not as well versed in handling these non-akuma bullies. 

Chat Noir knew how to handle them. Over the years, he learned to tune out their opinions. Debating with them only fueled their fires, and Adrien was happy to take the hatred of Paris if it meant a winged civilian went unnoticed or unharmed. Ladybug was less keen on this method, not because she wanted civilians to be in danger, but she liked taking action. A plan without a concrete answer was not her forte.

He bet that Marinette would be similar. Adrien saw how she stood up to Chloe’s bullying. He wasn’t sure why the blonde and the bluenette hated each other so, but he did know Marinette had a passion for justice within her. He doubted she would be able to sit idle as people trashed both his and her reputations, even if it was safer for her. 

All and all, the whole situation was too multifaceted too unwrap in Adrien’s already busy brain. 

“Your suit would have covered most of it,” Plagg smirked, “she probably would have said something if she had noticed. For being a civilian, she does seem to care an awful lot about Chat Noir.” 

Plagg knew that Marinette was Ladybug, however, he had sworn to Tikki that he would not tell Adrien. While Plagg didn’t feel the same sense of duty as his counterpart to serve and obey the rules of the miraculous, he still respected her wishes. As much as it pained him to keep such information from Adrien, Plagg would never betray Tikki’s trust. However, their promises said nothing about hinting at the other hero’s civilian identity. 

“That is just how she is, Plagg. She cares about everyone, just like Ladybug." 

“Right, of course,” Plagg suppressed a knowing eye roll, “she is the everyday Ladybug.” 

“Exactly,” Adrien chirped.

For a smart kid, Adrien could be unbelievably dense. 

Thankfully the teen did not pick up what Plagg was putting down. It was to be expected from the slightly oblivious model.

In his defense, the glamor that protected the heroes' identities was very good at its job, but Adrien was also pretty bad at deciphering non explicit verbal cues. It would probably take Plagg directly saying ‘Marinette is Ladybug’ for the information to click into place. Deciding it was best to change the subject Plagg commented, 

“By the way, your phone was going off like crazy so I turned it on, do not disturb.” 

Adrien raised his eyebrows. Shuffling round in his bed he reached for his phone once more. There were 56 unread messages. 

“You could have woken me up,” Adrien groused at his kwami. 

Plagg shrugged. He regretted nothing. The boy needed to sleep. 

Adrien rested head on his hand, leaning over the screen of his phone. The group chat with Alya, Nino, Marinette and himself, though quiet now, had been very active a few hours ago. Adrien assumed he had been Chat Noir when most of the messages came through, not that he had his phone anyway. 

The blond had never been a fan of texting. He struggled enough to understand the information conveyed through different tones of speech. Adrien felt like he misunderstood information a lot. When texting it was hard to know what was a joke and what was serious. 

For example, Nino had sent a meme, a cat themed one, much to Adrien’s delight. Alya had replied with a message stating how Marinette would love the picture. Eyebrows furrowing Adrien paused in his scrolling to think. He knew Marinette thought the pun filled memes that Nino and himself sent back and forth were stupid, so why would she love this one? Resigning that it was some sort of joke, Adrien swiped upwards, finally finding what had sparked such discourse. 

“Alya has a broadcasting company offering to buy her footage,” Adrien read to his kwami who remained unenthused, “she is having a celebration at Marinette’s house to watch it air.” 

Plagg’s ears perked up as Adrien mentioned a celebration. The kid’s father prevented him from having any fun, so Plagg really hoped Adrien could go to his party. 

“When is it?” 

“This evening.” 

Adrien bit his lip, trying to recall what his schedule looked like for the day. The ring around his finger spun in his hands. Plagg tried to ignore the anxious air the movement gave off, but he understood why his chosen was nervous. Even though Adrien clearly wanted to go to watch the footage with his friends, his father had the final say. Plagg bit back a salty comment, hating how Adrien, at 17, still had to make sure everything was perfect for his father before asking anything for himself. 

Thoughts whirring, the teen began to piece together a plan for his day. If he got his piano practice out of the way now, he would have some free time in the afternoon. His mandarin teacher was currently out with the flu, and his father had refused to let him anywhere near his son until the man had a clean bill of health, so there was no way he had a lesson today. Besides, their lessons were hardly lessons anymore, Adrien was as fluent in Mandarin as he was in French. 

There would be no photoshoots today. His father was meticulous about having things just about to be released before he teased the new content of his son. The method sometimes seemed sporadic as Adrien swore that the fashion house had a million things going on at once, but his father swore there was a method to the madness. This didn’t exactly add up, especially as “surprise photo shoots” had occurred more than once when he had been planning to hang out with friends. Sighing, Adrien redirected his focus to what he could do in order to increase his chances of his father letting him go. 

The blond glanced over to his desk. His grey messenger bag lay open next to his desktop computer, its contents spilled haphazardly on the surrounding open space. The model had already finished his homework from school. The advanced classes he took did not see a winter holiday as an excuse to stop learning. Baccalauréat exams were coming up, and every teacher wanted their students to pass. While Adrien had finished his work from his school, the teen knew not to put it past his father to give him more assignments. Gabriel Agreste took education very seriously, and expected Adrien to excel in his classes. This often led to extra work to make sure Adrien remained at the top. The model did not really need the extra practice, as he was fairly smart, but it gave him something to fill the time between photoshoots and being Chat Noir. If his father would not let him hang out with his friends, at least he would be doing something productive. 

“Kid?” Plagg’s paws on his hands brought the boy out of his thoughts. 

Where he had been clutching his ring, a red circle had pressed into his palm. Adrien had been so focused on the celebration that he had forgotten he had been holding the miraculous. Lost in his thoughts, he had begun squeezing the ring. Plagg, noticing the tension in his chosen’s hand, had brought Adrien’s awareness back to the present. 

“Oh,” Adrien blushed, slipping the ring back onto his finger. Plagg began rubbing away the red marks on the teen’s palm. Once the irritation had subsided, Plagg nuzzled into Adrien’s hand, the physical content making the boy’s heart swell. 

“I should…” Adrien trailed off glancing at his phone once again, noticing for the first time a text from Marinette. 

Plagg flew upwards and glanced over the boy’s shoulder. The tiny god bit back a teasing remark, knowing that if he made any comments Adrien would deny them. The love square that both he and Tikki’s chosen found themselves in was quite humous, if not verging on annoying. The two were so hopelessly infatuated with the other they could not make the connection between their identities. 

“She was worried about me.” 

“You were a little bit…” Plagg paused searching for the right world, “overwhelmed.” 

Blowing his bead head upwards with a sharp breath, Adrien sighed. Overwhelmed was an understatement. The photoshoot had been cold and emotionally draining. The fabrics, although not as appalling as pure cotton, had slowly made the hairs on his arms stand on end. The sensory overload coupled with low blood sugar, a compressing wing binder and the akuma had not boded well for Adrien. Thankfully he had been able to become Chat Noir and with the transformation brought a wave of comfort. Plagg’s energy never failed to help reset Adrien’s senses, especially when he was feeling overwhelmed. 

“What should I say?” 

“The truth?”

“I don’t think she would quite understand…” 

“What?” Plagg huffed, sarcasm edging into his voice, “Sometimes basic sensations are overwhelming, my voice seems to come and go as it pleases, and my father is accidentally starving me. This makes it really hard to handle the akuma and run to a storefront at least as my civilian self. Oh also, I have wings. But don’t worry everything is perfectly fine.”

“I can't tell her that,” Adrien balked. He had completely missed the sarcasm in his kwami’s voice but Plagg wasn’t quite finished, 

“Let me guess, daddy dearest would get too upset. Wouldn’t want to mess up your relationship with your boss.”

A dark shadow of emotion passed over Adrien’s face. Plagg faltered, realizing a moment too late he had gone too far. 

“Adrien, kid, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I—” 

“I have to practice my piano if I want any chance at seeing my friends tonight.” 

“Kid…” 

Adrien shrugged off his kwami, walking to his closet to get dressed before playing the large instrument that sat in the corner of his room. He wasn’t worried about waking anyone up with the noise. He knew Nathalie got to the mansion incredibly early, and he figured his father would be up working as well. Maybe they would appreciate the faint piano music that would be heard downstairs.   
Picking out a dark green turtleneck, which both brought out his striking eyes and covered the bruising on his neck and back, Adrien slowly pulled it over his head. With some maneuvering the teen pulled his wings through the pre-fitted slits, taking extra care not to tousle the groomed feathers. The model did not own many of these shirts, as he usually didn’t keep his wings out. He knew he would eventually have to change into a wing binder, especially if he wanted to go out, but Adrien wanted to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. It was a rare occasion that he could display the feathery appendages as himself, not Chat Noir. 

The boy pointedly ignored his kwami as he dressed. Adrien knew that Plagg disliked his father, but going as far as to imply their relationship was nothing more than employer and employee had hurt. Adrien knew he would never be the son his father wanted him to be, but that did not stop the teen from trying. He made stellar grades in school, was kind to everyone, put up with the onslaught to his senses that came with being Adrien Agreste, famous teenage model and heartthrob. He was trying, trying to be the best for everyone, and it hurt. Not meeting his father’s standards as a son was one thing, but what Plagg had said was cruel. 

Glancing at himself in the mirror, Adrien tried not to cringe at his appearance. His, usually tamed, golden cowlick was sticking up against the natural parting of his hair. The eye bags under his eyes, although not as pronounced as the previous morning, made his face look sunken and skeletal. The turtle neck, once fitted perfectly to his body, hung off of his torso like a bag. For once, his wings were the only thing presentable about him.

This was not acceptable from an Agreste.

The transformation from sleep deprived teen to trendy son of Gabriel Agreste was finished quickly. Many mornings Adrien had been forced to do this in much less time, making him a pro. Within a few minutes, he was looking satisfactory. Eye bags concealed, hair tamed and styled, shirt tucked into pants to hide the shrinkage, Adrien was ready. 

Plagg had left Adrien alone, presumably to let him blow off steam from being called a mere employee of his own father. Adrien, although still upset with the comparison, recognized the truth in Plagg's words. The boy could not remember the last time the two of them had done something unrelated to the company. It would have to have been when his mother was still alive, and all of Adrien’s memories from that time were a little fuzzy. 

Plagg watched Adrien from atop the piano lid, knowing that the boy would eventually have to come over to the instrument. He was glad the boy had decided to leave his wings out. Sometimes Adrien forgot that he should take a break once in a while. The kwami was sorry for his outburst. He had been distracted by his hatred for Gabriel Agreste, and in turn had ignored Adrien’s feelings. The poor kid did enough of that on his own, he didn’t need Plagg to do it too. 

Eventually the teen did make his way over to the piano, though it was clear his mind was elsewhere. Even as he placed his pale hands against the keys, his eyes remained unfocused on the instrument in front of him. Plagg frowned, more worried about Adrien than waiting for their fight to blow over. Neither of the boys could stay upset at each other for very long anyway. However, just as Plagg was about to pull Adrien out of his own head, the teen started playing. 

The piece was still a work in progress. The sheet music remained propped on the piano from his previous practice. Notes from his instructor had been scribbled in the margins, the messy handwriting was illegible to Plagg, but to Adrien it seemed to make perfect sense. The minor key seemed very appropriate given the emotions running throughout the room. 

Starting off slow and methodical Adrien’s eyes began to clear as he focused on the piece. His fingers twitched with anticipation in between measures, wishing he didn’t have to pause as he sight read the notes. Once he had read through each measure, Plagg watched as Adrien’s eyes wandered back to beginning to play though the piece. 

The blond began moderately, fingers flexing over the keys. Leaning forward slightly, Adrien began to pick up speed and intensity, making the music swell beneath his hands. His left hand reached down the ivories plucking deep baritones to balance the melancholy of the music. The more he played the more relaxed he became. The tension that had been held in his shoulders flowed out of him, leaving his posture relaxed. His wings shuffled, parting open as the melody soared. 

As he brought his hand back down to continue the main melody, however, he hit a wrong chord. Flinching away like the sound had burned him, Adrien shuddered at the clash of notes. Consulting the music again, Adrien corrected the error and played through the measure once again, though the passion that had previously filled the room was nowhere to be found. 

Adrien sighed and rested his head on the piano keys. The soft twang as his forehead rested on the keys was not helping forget the disgusting clash during his practice. His wings drooped at his sides, mirroring the mood he found himself in. 

He kept messing up. He wasn’t a good son, he wasn’t a good partner. He had failed to make his father proud, and he had failed to be a good hero. He had failed. He was a fake and everyone was going to find out. Adrien squeezed his eyes shut, willing the world to simply disappear for a moment. What he heard instead was a single chord. 

Encouraging words were not one of Plagg’s strong suits. Instead, the kwami preferred other ways of comfort. Knowing Adrien’s thoughts, the tiny god had flown down from his perch. He now hovered over the keys, stretched to play the first chord in a song Adrien knew all too well. The kwami moved to play the next to notes, having a much easier time with their close proximity. 

Adrien raised his head, eyes tearing up at the familiar sounds. Plagg was playing the lullaby his mother used to play when he felt overwhelmed by the world around him. Back then he had tried to learn it, but his little hands couldn’t reach a full octave. It was not a particularly hard arrangement, he had just been too small to play it properly. Adrien used to practice the song over and over so one day he would be able to play it for his mother. 

Emillie died before he got a chance to show her. 

As Plagg stretched his body to play the next chord, Adrien joined in, making the kwami’s job a lot easier. Adrien took over the steady, calming melody of the left hand, while Plagg flew to complement with the treble clef. Together the pair played the lullaby until Plagg’s part split into chords. Adrien took over the piece, closing his eyes as he played. 

The day his mother passed, young Adrien played the song until his fingers felt like they were bleeding. The placements of the keys were ingrained in his memory. Unlike the previous piece, Adrien knew he would not make a mistake. The familiar chords eased his nerves. With each crescendo of the music Adrien could almost feel his mother sitting next to him, beaming with pride as he played the piece as she had for him. 

As the music drew to a close Adrien slowed his playing. He didn’t want to open his eyes and find the seat next to him empty. At least in this moment, it wasn’t just Plagg and him, all alone. Silent tears leaked from the corners of his still shut eyes as he played the final chord. It’s gentle piano reverberated softly in the large space. With a sniffle, Adrien opened his eyes, trying not to give the pang of loneliness he felt too much attention, lest he sob all of his concealer off. 

“Thank you.” 

Plagg nodded. He had moved to Adrien’s shoulder during the lullaby and now snuggled affectionately against his chosen’s neck. Before Plagg could say anything, however, a knock came from the door. 

“Adrien?” The cold voice of Nathalie sounded slightly muffled. Plagg dived behind Adrien’s shoulder just as the assistant walked in. She looked the same as ever. Her dark blue pantsuit pressed and starched to perfection. Though her expression was schooled, her eyes looked wet, as if she was holding back tears, 

“Emillie loved that song. You played it beautifully,” She appeared thoughtful, dropping her professional expression for a much softer one. It was just for a moment, but the wistful ghost of a smile that graced her features alluded to much more than a simple moment. No doubt she was remembering his mother, reminiscing on things Adrien couldn't begin to recall. 

“Comptine d'un autre été, correct?”

Adrien nodded, quickly wiping the tear tracks off his face. Forcing himself to hold Nathalie’s eye contact he smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“She would be proud of you.” 

It took everything in Adrien not to burst into tears at that statement. If only his father saw it that way. Seeming to remember why she had entered the room in the first place, Adrien watched as cool detachment settled over her features. That was all he was going to hear about his mother from Nathalie, at least for this moment. 

“Your father would like to see you.” 

The teen stiffened, hands flying together in his lap. Adrien began the steady rotation of his ring around his fingers, sitting up straighter as the tension returned to his shoulders. 

“Give him hell,” Plagg whispered playfully before darting under the couch. Adrien suppressed a smile, knowing that the kwami had his back. 

“Did he say why?” Adrien tried to match Nathalie’s unaffected tone, but failed miserably. The end of the question shot up, highlighting the teen’s anxiety. 

“No,” Nathalie clipped, disinterested, “He is expecting you to meet him in his office in a few minutes.” 

“Thank you, Nathalie,” Adrien stood following the assistant out of the room. He paused for a moment, eyes flitting around the room for his kwami. Plagg peaked out from under the couch, catching Adrien’s eyes. He shot a tiny thumbs up to the teen, mouthing good luck so the assistant could not hear him. Adrien pointed to a pocket in his pants, however, Nathalie called for him. Plagg shrugged, moving back under the couch. Adrien bit his lip and followed the assistant out of the room.

The two walked in silence down the opulent marble staircase to the foyer of the Agreste mansion. The teen glanced outside the sprawling windows. The grey of the winter day reflected back at him, a thin layer of freshly fallen snow lay across the usually green lawn. His thoughts flitted to Ladybug, she was definitely going to be affected by this cold. He knew from Plagg that Tikki hated the winter, and his Lady shared similar sentiments. 

“Adrien,” Nathalie called again, drawing the boy away from the thoughts of his partner, “Your father will see you now.” 

Taking a deep breath, Adrien padded into the room, his sock feet making no sound on the hard floor. Gabriel was facing away from the door, staring up at the golden portrait of Adrien’s mother. Even as his back was turned, Adrien felt his stomach drop as he approached. The older man turned, seeming to know exactly where his son would be in the room, even if he had made no sound. 

“Adrien.” 

“Father.” 

The teen felt his voice falter, and he quickly dropped eye contact in hopes to calm himself. Adrien wished Plagg was in his pocket so at least he wouldn’t feel so alone. Alas, the tiny god was waiting back in his room. Adrien would have to deal with this meeting himself. He was reminded of Plagg's wish to give his father hell and swallowed down his fear. 

He could do this. 

Gabriel looked his son up and down. His mouth pulled downward in an expression of disdain as his eyes fell on Adrien’s unbound wings. The reminder that his son was different taunted him across the room. 

“Your wings,” Gabriel gestured vaguely, “you have them unbound.” 

“Yes, father.” 

Self-consciously, Adrien folded his wings against his back. The action made him look even smaller in the presence of his father. The blond straightened his posture, forcing his hands to remain at his sides instead of clasped together fidgeting. Gabriel would have none of that. 

“I am surprised.” 

“Well, they are a part of me.” 

“Don’t get smart with me now, boy,” Gabriel’s eyes snapped upwards, his voice not quite angry but the tone was warning, “I provide you with everything you need to pass as a normal human. It is for your own good. Your success depends on it.” 

Adrien sighed, a conflicted expression crossing his face. He had to shove his hands in his pockets to keep them apart. 

“Is this what you called me for?” 

Gabriel’s glare was enough to send a wave of unease though Adrien. He was glad his hands were now in his pockets or surely his father would be able to see them shaking. It would only infuriate the man more, after all, Agrestes were not allowed to show weakness. 

The blond swallowed, looking down at his feet. He was ready to apologize for whatever he had done to make his father call this meeting but before he could get any words out Gabriel spoke. 

“Adrien,” the older man paused for dramatic effect, “I am concerned for your safety.”

The teen choked on his words, the apology dying in his throat, “W-What?”

“With the increased protests, I do not think it is safe for you to be roaming the streets alone.” 

Adrien suppressed an eye roll, an expression he had picked up from spending so much time with Plagg. It wasn’t like Adrien was allowed to “roam the streets” anyway. At least not as Adrien, the teen thought dubiously. 

Plagg had definitely been rubbing off on him. 

“It seems like every time a protest happens there is an akuma attack, and I do not want you to be caught in the crossfire.”

Little did his father know, Adrien was at every akuma attack.

“Those people are dangerous, and I do not want your or our name to be associated with such radicals.” 

“What do you mean by those people,” Adrien’s brows knitted together. He had a feeling he understood what his father was implying, but it made him sick to his stomach to think about.

Gabriel blinked, seeming surprised by his son’s question. Adrien had never questioned his orders before, been disappointed, yes, and even occasionally argued against them, but never questioned. The older man schooled back his expression, speaking as though he was unattached to the situation, 

“The winged protesters.” 

“People? Do you mean people” 

Confused, Gabriel conceded, “I suppose.” 

The unease Adrien had felt earlier was replaced with anger. He did not like what his father was implying, both about himself and others like him. He was reducing them to one sided angry creatures. Ladybug would not stand for such injustice. 

“You don’t want me to be seen… with people like me.” 

“The protesters are not like you,” Gabriel shot back, “and in the right setting it would be very good for the brand for you to be seen with winged people.” 

“Father,” Adrien took a breath, “I don’t think the protests are dangerous. If the winged people… If we… had rights, then we wouldn't need to protest. It is not their fault that a supervillain is taking their anger at injustice and using it to wreak havoc.” 

Gabriel simmered with barely contained anger. Adrien had some nerve speaking back to him like that. This insubordination needed to be punished. This was not the way Adrien was raised. Venom dripping from his words, Gabriel took a step towards his son, using his intimidating height to get his point across. 

“You seem to forget who you are, Adrien Agreste. Outside of this house, you don’t have wings. You are the face of the Agreste Brand. The very thing that provides you with countless opportunities, puts a roof over your head, and food on the table. You do not have a place in petty politics. Especially when the issue does not concern you. Have I made myself clear?” 

The blonde gulped, eyes flitting to the ground. Whatever had possessed him to stick up to his father had been deflated in a matter of seconds. 

“Yes, Father.” 

“Meet my eyes when you address me, boy.”

Suppressing a shiver, Adrien forced his eyes upwards. Once his green eyes met his father's steely grey ones, he choked out his reply once more. 

“Yes, Father.” 

The reply didn’t sound anything like Adrien. His usual mature tenor was nowhere to be found, instead his voice sounded raspy and forced. The tightness in his throat had returned. Maintaining the tense eye contact with his father, Adrien felt his throat clench further. Gabriel’s face seemed to shift into a satisfied expression. To an outsider, it would appear that Gabriel was happy at his son’s struggle to address him, however, in Gabriel’s eyes, he was simply putting his defiant son in place. He was just being a good parent. 

Adrien broke eye contact, shuddering openly. 

“Be careful Adrien,” His father walked to his desk and began rearranging papers, “your enemies will use your weakness against you.” 

Adrien said nothing, posture rigid with tension. 

“You may leave. Natalie will brief you on your schedule and new curfew.” 

Adrien turned to leave. It took quite a lot of willpower not to run from the office. There was too much tension still lingering in the space. Just as he reached the door, Gabriel called out once more, 

“Everything I do is to protect you.”

Adrien paused, turning back to his father. He was not surprised to see the man addressing the painting of his mother and not his son. Sometimes, he spoke like Emillie was still alive.

Leaving his father to his own devices the blonde began to climb the stairs to his room. His throat was still tight, stealing his voice away for who knows how long. Adrien tried to be polite about brushing off Nathalie’s request that he eat breakfast. The interaction with his father had spoiled any appetite. Eventually the assistant got the message, leaving Adrien to make the trek to his room alone. Once he was out of sight from the assistant, Adrien pulled the ring off of his finger and squeezed the familiar weight into his palm. 

He did not need to look at his hands to know that every press left behind a red and angry mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel really popped off 
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> Please share if you enjoyed! 
> 
> xoxo   
> \- Creative 
> 
> P.S.   
> for updates about my progress  
> and sneak peaks at upcoming chapters  
> you can find me on ig @creatibug   
> :)


	6. Best Friend Squad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien sneaks out to see his friends and support Alya in this new junction of her career. On the way to the bakery, Nino catches Adrien up on what has been going on in their lives since the winter holiday has begun. As the foursome prepares to watch the new footage, Alya reveals her true opinions on the heroes of Paris. Watching the airing causes commotion among the friend group. Adrien retreats into the bathroom while Marinette begins to put two and two together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally chapter 6 and 7 were gonna be one chapter,  
> but then I wrote so much I had to break it up.

“Claws in.” 

Adrien closed his eyes as the familiar flash of green light enveloped his body. Bracing one hand against the wall of the alleyway he sucked in a breath. His reflexes were sluggish; he barely managed to reach out his other hand to catch Plagg. No matter how many times he switched between the two personas, the teen doubted he would ever get used to the suffocating tightness that came with transforming from Chat Noir to Adrien Agreste.

This itching was new though. Biting his lip he really hoped he was not having some sort of reaction to the wax Marinette had used. Sometimes his wings would itch when they molted, but he had already gone through his molting cycle for winter feathers, so he doubted he was molting again so soon. Each cycle varied from winged person to person, so although it was possible he was molting, it would definitely be an unexpected surprise. 

“You owe me so much cheese,” Plagg groaned from the teen’s palm. The sound snapped Adrien’s attention back to the kwami. The black cat was lounging dramatically on his palm, eyeing the boy with a gaze Adrien couldn’t place. 

The teen smiled apologetically, but the energy that sparked in his eyes gave away his true nature. Adrien was excited. The teen removed his palm from the rough surface, the brick scraping against the soft skin. Reaching into his pocket, Adrien pulled out two slices of camembert chuckling as Plagg’s pupils dilated. 

“My sweet, darling, cheese,” Plagg floated up, a purr emanating from his throat. 

Adrien’s nose wrinkled in disgust. The pair might have rubbed off on each other over the years, but Adrien would never have the same affinity for cheese. 

Plagg swallowed each slice in one bite, “Don’t give me that face.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” 

Before Plagg could retort another voice reverberated through the alleyway,

“Adrien?” 

The teen model spun around, a huge smile already spreading across his features. 

“Nino!” 

Adrien rushed forward, practically tackling his friend into a hug. He was thankful that the binder around his chest was hard to discern from the ribbed fabric of his sweater. The outerwear— much like the turtleneck he still wore underneath— was tucked into his pants, effectively hiding both his wing binder and his thinning stature. Nino let out a whoosh of air as his friend barreled into him. 

Plagg managed to duck into Adrien’s pocket before being spotted, however, as he was suddenly squished in between two teenage boys, he almost wished he hadn’t made it. Adrien better get him a lot of cheese for this. 

“I can’t believe your father let you come!”

Adrien paled slightly, but continued smiling. His hands subconsciously flew together, fidgeting with his ring. Nino had become so accustomed to the action that he hardly even noticed his friend was doing it. 

Swallowing, Adrien let out a high pitched, “Yeah.” 

Technically, his father had not let him come. He didn’t even know the viewing party was happening. As far as everyone in the mansion knew, he was still in his room, avoiding Nathalie’s conflicted concern and his father’s distance. After their scuffle that morning, the last thing Adrien wanted to do was incur the wrath of Gabriel Agreste. It did not make sense to the boy how his father could be so overprotective, yet so distant. It made Adrien feel like one of those antique dolls that people collected: meant to be looked at and bragged about, but never touched or played with. 

Plagg had taken pity on Adrien’s sulking and volunteered to help him sneak out. In the back of his mind, he knew that this was not how the Miraculous was supposed to be used, however, Adrien deserved to be happy. Plagg would transform Adrien as much as he could, especially if it helped Adrien feel loved and wanted. With all the misfortune the teen had experienced, he deserved the good things too. And Adrien did not plan on returning anytime soon.

“It is great to see you,” Nino affectionately patted Adrien on the back. 

Trying not to wince as his friend unknowingly crushed his feathers further, Adrien nodded. It was more than great to see Nino. It had been several days since their school had gone on holiday, and Adrien was already starved for any kind of social interaction. It had most likely been a driving force for wanting Marinette to stay at the photoshoot with him. While he did have the company of his father’s employees, it did not provide the same comfort as being around people his age. 

Seeing Nino left Adrien feeling the electricity of excitement course through his limbs. He wanted to move, to cast off his binder and flap his wings excitedly. Instead, however, he fought down the surge of emotion. Years of being scolded for the simple movements made the suppression second nature. Without warning, an echo of his father’s voice rang in his ears, effectively crushing any desire to move. Adrien stopped fidgeting. 

Nino frowned. The lack of movement from the other boy was concerning. Adrien was always in motion, he spoke with his hands, and played with his ring while others talked. Sitting next to the teen had school had allowed Nino to see the boy take apart and reassemble pens without taking his eyes off of the lecture, and even play with the beaded charm he sometimes brought to school. To see his friend go so still was unnerving. His face looked pale, even for Adrien’s naturally pale skin, and his usually bright green eyes were dull and unfocused. 

“Dude?” Nino gently put a hand on Adrien’s arm. 

Adrien startled, flinching away from his friend’s touch. The green eyes that had been staring past Nino snapped back to the present. The amateur DJ furrowed his brows, concern evident in his features. Adrien glanced down the street, refusing to meet his friends eyes. 

“Sorry, I zoned out.” 

Nino sighed in relief, “Dude, you were like, in the next dimension.” 

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. Turning back to his friend, the teen breathed out a weak, “Haha yeah.”

Plagg frowned from his concealed spot in Adrien’s over-shirt. Humans were so complicated. The kwami did not understand why his chosen had spaced out, usually he became attached and involved when he saw his friends. This was unlike him. 

“Are you excited to see the girls?” 

The pair began walking towards the bakery. Adrien had not wanted to transform to close lest he arouse suspicion. 

“Yes!” Adrien tried to bounce back in their conversation but his father’s words were still echoing in his ears. He was almost certain as they turned the corner Gabriel would be waiting there to berate him. Maybe sneaking out was not a good idea. If he got caught, he would never be able to go out again. Sneaking out at night as his hero alter ego was one thing, but being Adrien in broad daylight brought a whole new level of uneasiness. Nino grabbed Adrien’s hand, pulling him out of the way of a passing group of tourists. On autopilot he pulled his head down, avoiding making eye contact to prevent recognition. He was painfully aware of his body, and it made his head hurt. 

“Adrien,” Nino spoke softly, “Are you okay? That’s twice now you’ve gone awol.” 

Blinking slowly, Adrien curled his fingers around Nino’s hand. The tan boy didn’t pull away. Genuine concern flooded over his features as he patiently waited for Adrien to find the right words. He still wasn’t fidgeting, which was worrying, but Nino knew it was a good thing that the boy hadn’t gone completely silent. Adrien took a decisive breath. 

Nino was here. Nino was real. Nino was not going to tell him off for not following the rules. Actually, knowing his friend, Nino would probably be ecstatic that Adrien had snuck out. As the two continued to walk, Adrien felt himself loosening up once again. He was here to enjoy his friend's company, not stress out about getting caught. 

“I am good,” Adrien let go of Nino’s hand. As much as he loved the contact, he figured Nino was just doing it to humor him. Nino had always been scarily observant about Adrien’s needs, and the prolonged contact was no exception. It was like he had a sixth sense. He just knew when his friends felt anxious or sad. As much as Adrien appreciated his friend’s concern, the blond knew he had to be careful. He could not risk Nino finding out about his wings or anything else. Nino deserved better than the mess of Adrien Agreste. 

“It’s incredible the news is airing Alya’s footage.” 

Wary, but accepting Adrien’s answer, Nino replied, “I know dude! We all know she is amazing, but it is great that others are starting to see that.”

“It was bound to happen. Alya plays with the big dogs, even if she is only a blogger at the moment.” 

Nino’s warm eyes turned cold, “Honestly I was worried, after the whole refusal fiasco from the other studio.” 

Adrien furrowed his brow, “Fiasco?” 

The pair stopped on the sidewalk as a traffic light changed to green. Between the imminent threat of snowfall and icy pavement, there were not many motorists on the road, but the boys were not about to risk a car sliding across the cobblestones and into the pedestrian walkway. A lonely vespa crossed the intersection cautiously, the driver nodding to Nino and Adrien as she passed. Once the crosswalk was clear, and the light had changed back, the pair continued their walk to Marinette’s house. 

Adrien shoved his ringed hand into his pocket, spinning the object methodically. The movement earned him a warning nip from Plagg who was still upset about being squished and was not about to be squished again. 

The teen couldn’t recall any fiasco between Alya and any studios. As far as he knew, she was content with running her blog. 

“Yeah,” Nino shrugged, “she had been applying for internships since the start of this year and so far not many have gotten back to her. One planned an interview, but once they saw she had wings they said they were not interested. She was pretty devastated.” 

Frowning Adrien replied, “That’s horrible.” 

“Horrible is an understatement. It makes me so angry that people still care about if someone has wings or not. I just want to do more to help. It’s not fair.” 

The blond remained silent. Nino’s words were hitting a little too close to home. 

“Anyway,” Nino took a breath, “I just hope this doesn’t backfire on her.” 

“Me too.” Adrien added quietly. 

The binder that crushed his feathers suddenly seemed very tight. He was living a lie while Alya had to deal with the complications of having wings everyday. She chose not to escape the prejudice in favor of living as her true self. 

Adrien felt like a coward. It may not be his ideal choice to bind his wings so extensively, but he knew how much hatred he was avoiding. Having the experiences as Chat Noir only made these feelings worse. When he was his alter ego, it was easy not to be scared of the threats that came his way. After all, he had superpowers, he could defend himself. As his civilian self, however, Adrien was terrified. 

If he decided to show his wings now, the perfect bubble that surrounded Adrien Agreste would collapse. There was bound to be collateral damage. His father would be swarmed by activist groups, and while their intentions were good, sometimes their actions were far from it. As muddled as Adrien's emotions were concerning his father, the teen knew he did not want to see the man attacked for protecting his son. His friends could be targeted. While being so well known in Paris sometimes had its perks, it was also painfully public. People knew where he went to school, and most of his photoshoots were public knowledge. It would be incredibly easy to track him down, or to find out who he cared about. 

Adrien had to keep pretending. The stakes were far too high to stop. 

The thought left an unpleasant feeling in his stomach. 

“Whatever Monsieur Dupain is making sure smells amazing,” Nino commented, changing the subject to lighter topics. A cold breeze wafted the smell of freshly baked bread from the now close bakery. Adrien’s mouth watered at the thought of eating more croissants. The ones he had eaten as Chat Noir were still fresh in his mind, and his stomach was quite empty after not eating breakfast that morning. 

“He is the best baker in all of Paris.” 

“Hey boys!” A familiar voice yelled down to them. The pair looked up, smiling when they saw the source of the cry. Alya was waving down to them from the rooftop terrace connected to Marinette’s room. Nino seemed to light up at the sight of the girl. Her reddish brown feathers unfurled behind her, framing her figure against the sky. With a beat of her powerful wings she leaped over the railing and sailed gracefully down to greet the boys. The small form of Marinette waved from behind her, turning to rush back into her room so she too could greet the boys. 

As soon as Alya touched down, Nino wrapped his arms around his girlfriend. She kissed his cheek playfully, grinning excitedly. Adrien, after getting over the initial shock of Alya breaking the height restrictions for flight without much of a second glance, smiled at the couple. Nino was still looking at Alya like she was his whole universe, and she sported the same look right back. Adrien imagined that was what he looked like when gazing at Ladybug, but quickly squashed the thought. She had made it very clear that they were partners and nothing more. 

“Get a room!” Marinette called from the entrance of her parents bakery, effectively putting an end to Nino and Alya’s mutual pining. Adrien chuckled as Alya stuck her tongue out childishly towards her best friend. Marinette returned the action, squealing comically as another cold gust of wind blew past the friend group.

“Hurry up and come inside,” she whined, “it's too cold.” 

Obliging their friend, the group made their way inside the bakery. Adrien found himself bombarded with sights and smells and sounds from all directions. The smell of bread was wonderful, but almost overwhelming. The display cases were filled with colorful pastries and he found he didn’t know where to look. Business appeared to be booming as several customers and families milled around the space. Before Adrien realized what he was doing he had taken Nino’s hand, hoping to have some help maneuvering the space. Slightly unsteady on his feet, Adrien squeezed Nino’s palm, breath hitching as the grating whine from a child pierced through the already busy environment. All of his senses seemed to be working on overdrive as Nino silently led him through the noise. Once they had waved to Marinette’s parents, and stepped into the stairwell leading up to the Dupain-Cheng's apartment, Adrien found himself relaxed enough to let go of Nino. If his friends had noticed the action, or hesitant steps he had taken downstairs, they were kind enough not to mention it. 

“I hope you guys are ready to have your mind’s blown,” Alya chattered excitedly. 

Nino shrugged off his winter coat as he entered the apartment, followed close behind by the rest of the group. The girl’s coats were already hung up by the door, Alya’s bright orange complete with adjustable holes for her wings appeared to consume Marinette’s petite pink coat. Nino added his dark green coat to the pile, effectively covering both girl’s jackets. Adrien didn’t dare remove his sweater, even though the apartment was pleasantly warm. He realized it probably would have been smart to wear a jacket, but as Chat Noir he didn’t have to worry about the cold, so the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. 

“Your footage is always mind blowing babe,” Nino didn’t miss a beat. Marinette mocked a gagging sound, which quickly changed to a laugh as Alya tickled her in the ribs. Adrien smiled, admiring the girl’s friendship. He and Nino were close, but Adrien always had to maintain some level of distance to keep his secrets. Maybe someday they would be as close as the girls. 

“Hey!” Marinette jumped away from Alya using Nino as a human shield, “I mean if you guys wanted to flirt you could have had a viewing party without us.” 

“And miss a chance to annoy you by loving on my boyfriend?” Alya’s eyes filled with mirth, “Not a chance.”

Nino held up his hands, looking pleadingly into Alya’s eyes. He did not want to be the middleman of a tickle fight between his girlfriend and Marinette, that was a recipe for disaster. 

Moving forward with purpose Alya planted a kiss on Nino’s lips. Effectively distracting him and Marinette long enough to tickle her friends waist once again. The blunette’s laugh filled the room, joining in harmony with both Nino and Alya. Adrien smiled, feeling awkward standing in the doorway. The three of them had known each other for much longer than Adrien had known them. It was times like these where that difference was really noticeable to the blond. Moving his hands together, Adrien began to spin his ring. 

“So what is your footage of?” Adrien realized a moment too late that his question had just interrupted a moment between the group of three. Rubbing the back of his neck he glanced down to his feet. 

Alya broke away from Nino and hopped onto the couch.

“I filmed most of Ladybug and Chat Noir’s most recent akuma, but the footage the studio seemed to be interested in was of Chat Noir. They said they were interested in doing an accurate recording of events and since the news crew was up at the tower with Ladybug they missed some interesting footage of Chat Noir.” 

“I forgot!” Nino exclaimed, “I saw the rough footage on your blog, he fell off the Eiffel Tower, right?” 

Adrien felt the uneasy feeling in his stomach tighten. He slid his ring off his finger, squeezing it aggressively into his palm. 

Alya shifted her wings uneasily, “Yes. It was really disconcerting.” 

“Disconcerting how?” Marinette piped up. She gazed to Adrien, noticing how tense he seemed. Nino gestured with his hand prompting Adrien to join him on the couch. The blond smiled wanly and took a jerky step forward, causing Marinette to bite her lip in concern. It was the same way he had been walking during the photoshoot, as if he was trying to mask pain. 

Sometimes her father walked similarly after lifting heavy bags of flour. As he had gotten older, he had developed a little lower back pain, and when it was acting up, his walking gait was sometimes affected. In her worry she almost missed Alya’s explanation. 

“I’ve theorized that Chat Noir couldn’t fly before. I didn’t have any concrete proof, so I didn’t want to publish anything, and if I was wrong, it would have disastrous repercussions for the Ladyblog.” 

Adrien sat next to Nino on the couch, listening intently. As he leaned back against the cushions he fought the urge to itch his wings. While the feeling had been numbed in the cold, now that the boy was warm, it was causing mild discomfort. Curling his fingers into the fabric of his pants, Adrien tried to sit still. 

“I just thought it was weird that he was never in flight. Not to mention his wings never look quite right,” Alya shook her head, digressing, “Anyway, with all of these anti-binder protests I figured if Chat Noir had issues with his wings it would have been the perfect time to come forward. I mean, think of the momentum we could gain if we had a hero backing our cause!”

Marinette hummed in agreement, an unidentifiable emotion shading her blue irises. Why hadn’t she thought of that before? She was Ladybug for goodness sake. She should be standing up for the rights of the citizens she protected. 

“You really think that would help?” Adrien asked quietly, eyes glued to his lap. 

“Of course! Everyone respects the heroes of Paris, if they were to support the protests it would have the potential to spur some change, address more issues than just the use of binders.”

Nino added thoughtfully, “Since Chat Noir has wings, isn’t his support implied?” 

Alya snorted, “You would be surprised about the amount of winged people who don’t care about the protests. It’s really sad. It’s like they have become complaisant to being treated as inferior. At this point we can’t assume support…. And since neither of them have spoken up about the protests directly they might be taking a neutral stance, which is almost worse.” 

“How is being neutral worse?” Marinette’s brows were knitted together in confusion. 

“If you’re supporting or refuting an issue at least you have the guts to stand up for something you believe in. They may be heroes, but if they don’t feel comfortable speaking up on controversial issues that affect those they serve, then how can we expect the same from normal people?”

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” Marinette looked away from Alya. As much as it hurt her to hear her best friend call out her alter ego, Alya had a point. Ladybug had been using excuses to keep her from addressing the problem directly. She may not have wings, but her partner did, if anything she should have said something to show her support for him. 

Adrien felt nausea settle in the pit of his stomach. They were talking about him. Unbeknownst, his friends were calling him a coward. He took a shaky breath, focusing on breathing through the sensation. Adrien didn’t like where this conversation was going. 

“Don’t get me wrong,” Alya continued, “I love our heroes, and appreciate everything they do for us. It could just help a lot of people if they were to support these protests.” 

“Remember when Jagged Stone started his own protest?” Nino asked, trying to lighten the mood. It seemed to work because Alya shot her boyfriend a smile. Even Adrien found himself relaxing. 

“He really went off on society,” Marinette giggled. 

The popular singer had performed a benefit concert to help rehabilitate those whose wings were damaged from various forms of abuse. The concert had turned into a protest, complete with Jagged ranting for three hours about his own experiences as a winged-person. Participation in the anti-binder movement had soared, but it was short lived. When people didn’t get the change they wanted immediately, they lost interest. Threats of violence from dissenters on those who spoke out against binders also impacted the numbers. The protests may have attracted a large number of people, but when things like petitions and letters were sent to the mayor, people became skittish. 

People were afraid. 

Winged people and their supporters were often attacked. Those with wings were taught to not walk alone after it got dark, and if they did go out, to use a buddy system. Personally, Marinette thought this was a very backwards way of teaching. In her opinion, they should be trying to teach the attackers about the importance of the golden rule. However, the government did not seem to have any desire to instill this teaching on others. The amount of attackers that walked free disgusted the pigtailed girl, and she knew she wasn’t the only one who felt this way. 

“It was a great show of support,” Alya agreed. Shaking her head, she smiled, “Clearly I have a bias for famous people validating our protests.” 

The corner of Marinette’s mouth quirked up into a half smile. The teen was still angry at herself for not taking a clear stance on the wing binder issues as Ladybug. As Alya kept making more points, the more irritated with herself Marinette became. Of course she supported the protests! She went with Alya to them as often as she could! 

Nino glanced to Adrien, eyes shining with humor, “Hear that Adrien.” 

The blonde’s eyes widened. He swore he forgot to breathe, “What?” 

“Since you’re famous and all,” Nino prompted, smile faltering as he realized Adrien was not understanding the tease. Adrien didn’t have wings, even if he did want to speak out against the use of binders, it would not be his area. Nino was sure people like Alya would appreciate his support, but others would probably insult him for getting involved in a topic that he did not have personal experience with. 

Backtracking Nino sputtered to explain, “I was just making a joke ‘cause you’re a famous dude. Even though you don’t have wings.” 

“R-right!” Adrien squeaked, clearing his throat. The model swore his friends would be able to hear the pounding of his heart over his words. Clenching his fist around his ring, he took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing nerves. 

He thought they were implying that he had wings. 

Thankfully, Nino’s explanation had cleared up Adrien’s confusion, but the model’s heart was still ponding. 

“You say that like Gabriel Agreste would be caught dead supporting a protest,” Alya retorted, directing the attention away from Adrien. 

“Facts,” Nino turned back to his girlfriend nodding. 

Marinette snorted at this. The brand may act inclusive but if one looked hard enough— which not many people did— the lack of real representation was clear. None of the winged models ever had full page advertisements, and if they were, it was always in support of a non-winged model. While the models were there, the representation was hardly equal. 

“Anyway,” Alya sighed. The brunette girl seemed uncomfortable with what she was about to say.

“Chat Noir’s fall.” 

The group went silent. Adrien swore he could feel the pressure in the room breathing down his neck. Everyone in the room seemed to be uncomfortable with the statement, each for their own reasons. Alya shifted uneasily, her wings opening and closing slightly. The action was very similar to a non-winged person wringing their hands. It was odd to see Alya anxious, usually the girl exuded confidence. 

“Do you think he can fly at all?” Nino asked innocently. Adrien tried to hide the flinch that gripped his muscles at the comment. He seemed to be successful, as he only received a curious glance from Marinette, which he played off with a smile. 

Alya was quiet for a moment, choosing her next words carefully. 

“I think that Chat Noir has extreme damage to his wings. We have never seen him fly, and his fall off the Eiffel Tower seems to point towards an inability to fly.” 

She shifted her wings again, “I can’t say for sure that he is unable to fly, but personally I think so… I’m saying that as your friend, not as the owner of the Ladyblog.” 

Nino nodded, “Of course. It’s just an assumption, you’re allowed to be wrong.” 

“I just really hope the news doesn't focus on Chat Noir’s inability to fly. That would be an undercut to the overarching issue of wing damage as a whole.” 

Nino nodded, sympathy floating over his face, “They said they wanted to recount all of the facts, I am sure they will stay true to their word.” 

Alya smiled at his reassurance, taking his hand in hers. Their mocha complexions intertwined as Alya snuggled in closer. This time there was no teasing from Marinette as the pair cuddled. 

“We should turn it on,” Alya blushed. She seemed to have the sudden and awkward realization that she was being watched by everyone in the room. Although the girl never had any qualms about being in the center of attention, it was rare that attention was turned on her during a vulnerable moment. 

“You guys go ahead,” Marinette smiled, “I’m going to make us some hot chocolate.” 

This comment seemed to diffuse all of the tension in the air. 

“I love you Mari!” Alya called as Nino simultaneously said, “Thanks dudette!” 

Adrien couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten hot chocolate. The sweet beverage was definitely against his meal plan, not that Adrien had been following it these past few days. The teen had quickly found that he could eat whatever he wanted provided his father was not nearby. Before Adrien’s mom had died, his father had helped him not to worry about diet plans. He had just been a kid then, but he had always been a worrier. Even as a boy, Adrien just wanted to make his father proud. After Emilie’s death, however, Gabriel left Adrien to fend for himself. He delegated most of the work that involved his son to Nathalie, including his diet. As time continued to pass, the assistant had been handling more and more responsibilities at the company. Soon it would be Adrien taking over these responsibilities. 

He was supposed to maintain a certain weight for modeling, but it had been awhile since his last weigh in. Hawk Moth hadn’t been very active that week, so Adrien hadn’t burned off an excessive amount of calories chasing akuma’s around the city. Even then, Adrien had resorted to going incognito to buy Plagg’s camembert because his diet was being monitored so closely. The current food plan he was on had been adjusted before Hawk Moth decided to take advantage of the angry protesters, and after a few weeks, Adrien’s body was paying the price.

Adrien was not blind. He noticed his clothes no longer fitting. He saw the baby fat leave his face, extenuating his cheekbones more than was healthy for a boy his age. Yet, what could he do about it? He couldn’t ask for more food, his father would only question why he needed it, and the only way to explain that was to reveal his identity. 

The blond shivered involuntarily. Adrien knew he could never tell his father about his Miraculous. Gabriel would be furious. The blond pulled his legs up on the couch so he was curled at one end. The action reminded him vaguely of curling up as his alter ego, causing a fond smile to grace his features. As he settled onto the couch, his sweater came untucked, fabric pooling over his figure. The model knew he would have to tuck it back in eventually, unless he wanted his friends to be worried about him, but for now he was enjoying the comfort that being surrounded by people he loved. 

He shifted a bit, subtly rubbing his back against the pillows to relieve his itchy wings. The teen felt his feathers shift. Once tickled the small of his back as it fell out of the confines of his binder. Cursing internally, Adrien reached his hand behind him to grab the feather. Thankfully Alya and Nino were watching the TV, completely oblivious to Adrien stuffing a feather into his pocket. The boy was not happy with his wings for deciding now was a good time to start another molting cycle, but at least he was not allergic to the wax Marinette has used. He tucked his sweater back into his pants, hoping to stop any other feathers from falling out of his binder. 

“Do you guys want marshmallows?” Marinette asked from the kitchen. Her gaze was half on the TV and half on the warm drinks in front of her. 

“What do you think?” Alya scoffed, turning away from the current broadcast to grin at her bestie. 

Marinette grinned back, “Marshmallows it is.” 

Adrien watched as Marinette opened a cabinet, standing on her tiptoes she pulled out a bag of fluffy looking marshmallows. She was so tiny. Whereas he had grown quite a bit taller since lycée, Marinette was still the same height. As the blue haired girl plopped a generous amount of marshmallows into three of the four cups, she turned to Adrien, 

“How about you Adrien?” 

Blinking slowly at his friend Adrien processed what was being asked. He wasn’t used to giving opinion. His life was run by his father, and Adrien hardly ever got a say in what happened. But here Marinette was, giving him a choice. It may have seemed simple, choosing to have marshmallows in one's hot chocolate was hardly a life changing decision, but Adrien appreciated it nonetheless. 

“I’ve never had marshmallows,” the model blushed. 

“Dude,” Nino turned to look at him, jaw slack. Alya shook her head, chuckling slightly.

“Damn, Agreste,” she snorted, turning to her best friend she continued, “Mari please enlighten this poor boy.” 

Marinette looked too Adrien for confirmation. Over the years, she noticed his father took a lot of his choices away, so she tried her best to ask his opinion as much as she could. It may be small things, but it was something she could do for him. Adrien deserved so much good. 

When the blonde nodded excitedly Marinette pushed the butterflies that swarmed in her belly downwards. His excitement over something so small was adorable. Internally the blunette scolded herself for having such thoughts. As much as she tried to convince herself she only saw Adrien as a friend, her heart would betray her as soon as he sent her a grin. Looking down to avoid anyone noticing her blush, she carried the hot drinks over on a tray. As soon as she placed the tray down Alya and Nino grabbed their respective mugs. 

Taking a sip Alya moaned sensually causing Marinette to roll her eyes, “This is SO good. Mari, girl, you are my hero.” 

Marinette chuckled awkwardly at Alya’s compliment. Grabbing her own mug of hot chocolate with a small smile. The girl knew that Alya was not trying to hint at her secret identity with the comment, but being compared to her alter ego always made Marinette nervous. She didn’t want to risk someone finding out her identity and being put into danger. 

Adrien reached forward, taking the final mug from the tray. He held the warm ceramic in his hands. The warmth it released felt nice on his palms. Curling his fingers around the object protectively, he took a tiny sip. As the sugary drink hit his tongue his eyes widened in surprise. This was the best hot chocolate he had ever tasted. 

“Wow! Marinette this is really amazing!” 

The pigtailed girl flushed red, “T-thanks Adrien.” 

Oblivious to the effect his complement had on his friend, Adrien took another sip of the drink. Scooting over to make room for Marinette on the couch, he turned his attention to the television. 

The girl squeezed herself between Adrien and Nino, her blush deepening when her hand accidentally brushed Adrien’s leg. The blonde looked quite comfortable curled at the end of her couch. As the blue haired girl allowed her gaze to linger on her friend, she noticed the oversized sweater he was wearing. Adrien usually wore fitted clothing, but she supposed he was more interested in keeping warm this winter than showing off his body. Marinette was not sure why the clothing choice had sparked her attention, but before she could give it more thought Alya exclaimed, 

“Everyone quiet! It’s starting.” 

The dark haired girl seemed to be buzzing with both excitement and fear. With one hand she had a white knuckled grip on Nino, which Marinette doubted was comfortable. The DJ was a great sport. Glancing across the room at the television she focused on what the anchorwoman was saying. 

“Don’t be bemused, it’s just the news!” 

Nadja Chamack looked especially pretty for this nightly broadcast. Her professional pantsuit was tailored extraordinary well, adding an additional level of sophistication to her usual look. 

“Today we have a special report on Ladybug and Chat Noir’s most recent akuma battle with the Equalizer.” 

An image of the akumatized villain appeared on the screen as Nadja’s voice continued, 

“Tonight we will be giving a full recap of events, including an interesting discovery about one of Paris’ beloved heroes, Chat Noir.” 

The image changed to a flattering picture of the cat themed hero. Adrien found himself relaxing as no one had mentioned his failure. Maybe the news was more interested in the implications of the battle as a whole, and not Chat Noir’s secret. Just as he was about to take another sip of his hot chocolate the anchorwoman added,

“Does he have the abilities needed to be a true protector of Paris? Can we still trust him to protect us?”

Adrien spluttered in surprise, hot chocolate splashing onto his clothes and down his throat. The blonde let out a hacking cough, causing his small frame to rattle unsteadily. All three of his friends missed the next line spoken before the news went to commercial break. 

“Dude, you okay?” Nino reached behind Marinette to pat Adrien’s back gently. Now that the model was no longer choking on his drink he had stopped coughing, but he still was wearing sprayed drops of hot chocolate all over his clothes. Marinette leaned forward towards the tray still resting on the table, grabbing a few of the napkins she had placed on there as a precaution. 

“Yeah,” Adrien forced out shakily. He shot a reassuring smile at his friends and moved Nino’s hand off of his back. Adrien knew that Nino was trying to be helpful, but the last thing the model wanted right now was more sensory information to process. His mind was still reeling from Nadja’s intro. His worst fears seemed to be coming true. 

“You’re supposed to drink the hot chocolate, dude, not wear it,” Nino removed his hand, respecting Adrien’s unsaid request. Marinette handed him the napkins quietly, allowing him to blot the stains himself. The blond smiled appreciatively. 

Alya seemed a little preoccupied with what Nadja had said before the break to give much attention to the hot chocolate incident, but she did snort at Nino’s joke. The winged girl leaned forward on the couch, seemingly ready to pounce at the screen. 

“They better not take this where I think they are going to take this,” Alya muttered when the news came back on. 

Beside Marinette, Adrien tensed. He paused in cleaning up his sweater, the chocolate stains were not coming out with the napkins anyway. The longer it took for Nadja to address the elephant—or cat, in this case— in the room, the more Adrien worried. Was Paris going to turn against him? Was Ladybug going to take his Miraculous? Was this the end of his time as Chat Noir? Was this the last time he would be known as a hero? 

As the battle was recapped all of the teens seemed to be getting restless. Nino was bouncing his leg impatiently, while Alya ruffled her feathers periodically. There had been no use of Alya’s footage yet, nor mention of Chat Noir’s fall. 

Adrien felt sick. The tension in the air was suffocating. Plagg even poked him though his pocket to remind the boy to keep breathing. Nino’s leg kept tapping against the floor, each beat seemed to be louder. Alya seemed to be feeling similarly, as she turned the volume up on the television set. The increase of volume only made Adrien feel worse. He was glad he had placed his hot chocolate mug back onto the tray, or else he was sure it would expose his shaking hands. Nadja Chamack’s voice seemed to grate against his ears as she spoke again, 

“Now for what you have all been wondering, what happened to Chat Noir on the tower?” 

The nausea contained in Adrien’s stomach seemed to spread all over. His body felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. It was similar to the feeling of being overwhelmed at his photoshoot, but this time it was worse. Plagg tapped Adrien from inside his pocket again, but Adrien made no move to reassure the kwami. Right now, he was frozen, forcing himself to listen to Nadja’s next words. 

“Thanks to the owner of the Ladyblog, Alya Césaire, we have footage of this event. Let’s take a look...” 

The image on the screen switched to a familiar video. Alya hopped up from the couch, letting go of Nino’s hand. Emotions flashed over her face. Pride, conflict, and anger, were all present in her gaze. 

“Damnit!” She exclaimed, perching back on the couch and adjusting her wings once more. This was clearly not how the blogger would define “objective reporting.” 

“They are clearly leading the audience!” Nino added, expressing similar anger. 

Marinette shushed them both, “Let’s hear what they have to say.” 

Her eyes were heavy with sympathy and guilt, though her friends could not begin to understand why she was feeling that way. 

Marinette remembered diving after her partner, just like she was doing in the footage now. She saw the anger set in her features, as she caught her partner in what she had mistaken for a joke. For the first time, however, she noticed her partner’s face as well. While his eyes had been filled with panic at the beginning of his fall, by the time Ladybug had caught up to the cat, he almost seemed resigned, as if he was accepting his fate. 

As if he was ready to die. 

Marinette’s breath caught in her throat as the footage switched back to Nadja’s desk. 

“As you can clearly see, Chat Noir is unable to fly,” the anchorman paused for dramatic effect, “There are a multitude of comments we have received upon releasing this footage, but one thing is clear, Chat Noir was relying on Ladybug to save him. While he may play hero, when it gets down to the wire, he is just as dependent on Ladybug as we are. He is no better than a civilian.”

Marinette let out a sound of disbelief but quickly stopped as Nadja continued. 

“I believe it is completely reasonable to question his ability as a hero. If he is unable to protect himself, what kind of message does that send to our children? Eventually they will grow up to join our society. They will be petrified to know that one of our heroes is unable to protect them. It is their responsibility to protect us, and now we can only count on one for that.” 

Adrien slid his ring off his finger, squeezing it once more into his palm. He was sure his hands were already red, but he needed something to ground him, otherwise he may be lost in this new and potent feeling of despair. 

“Ladybug cannot be everywhere at once. She is a brilliant hero, but she deserves a partner who can take care of himself. Chat Noir is a weak link, and it has never been more apparent.” 

The woman took a moment to organize her notes. 

“We are now opening up our phones so you, the citizens of Paris, can express your feelings on this revelation.” 

Adrien was shocked. Shocked was an understatement. Adrien felt like his whole world had just been turned upside down. Marinette stood up from the couch, eyes seething with anger. Alya was already pulling out her phone, ready to call in and defend the hero. 

“How dare they disrespect Chat Noir like that!” Alya punched the number on her screen into her phone. The beeping as she put in the numbers felt like stabs to Adrien’s chest. The TV was still turned up, and Nino was still bouncing his leg, although this time it was from restlessness not impatience. Marinette began pacing the room, completely engrossed in her thoughts. She appeared to be muttering to herself. Although it was quiet, Adrien swore he could feel the vibrations of the noise. 

“Come on Nino! Help me!” Alya turned to her boyfriend. Although her anger was not directed at him Adrien still flinched at her tone of voice. Things were too much. This was all too much. 

“I'm going!” Nino pulled out his phone and punched in the number. The couple began bickering, even though neither of them were actually angry with the other. 

Everyone was so loud. 

The first caller was pulled up on the station. Alya cursed under her breath when it wasn’t her name. Adrien was still frozen in place, unable to escape the thunderous noise. His eyes were glued to the screen. 

“Think Chat Noir has always been the weak link. He has been under Hawk Moth’s control so many times, and has even tried to kill Ladybug. To be honest, I don’t understand why she even bothered saving him. He is basically useless.” 

Each word felt like stabs to Adrien’s heart. His stomach tightened as the words continued. He was going to be sick. 

“It’s not a surprise he can’t fly. I mean he is probably to stupid to have learned.” 

Adrien knew Chat Noir was not as well liked as Ladybug, but every insult stung. Nadja smiled at the camera, appearing smug. 

“I’m gonna kill them,” Alya commented in an eerily calm manner, causing a new bout of arguing between her and Nino. 

“I am NEVER babysitting for that woman again,” Marinette’s voice was laced with venom. It sliced through Alya and Nino’s arguing for a moment, causing both parties to pause. The tone reminded Adrien of someone, but his mind was so frazzled that he couldn’t recall who. Taking advantage of the moment of relative quiet Adrien stood up abruptly. Unprepared for the spots that danced across his vision as he surged upwards, the boy wavered unsteadily on his feet. 

“I,” he blinked the spots away, pushing down another wave of nausea. His throat was tight, and he didn’t know how much longer he would still be able to express his feelings with words. The TV was still blaring in the background, and the usually harmless noise from his friend movements seemed to pound through his head. 

“Bathroom,” Adrien stumbled, cursing his inability to navigate a situation when he was overwhelmed. At least as Chat Noir he had his tail and an innate sense of balance. Adrien was just a hot mess. Nino and Alya were too busy bickering about Alya's vow to kill a stranger to notice the blond’s departure. Alya dialed the number again, tears springing in her eyes when one of the callers praised her for capturing this important truth. 

“This is not what I wanted,” her voice broke as she sniffled. 

Nino, taking the opportunity to comfort his girlfriend grabbed her hand. The DJ whispered into Alya’s ear and she seemed to calm down a bit. Marinette turned the TV down, not wanting to hear the civilians that she and Chat Noir had protected for years insult her partner over and over. 

The girl turned to where Adrien had been sitting, frowning when he was no longer there. She recalled briefly that he had gone to the bathroom. Sitting back down on the couch she remained quiet as Nino continued to comfort Alya. Her mascara was running down her face giving her the appearance of a raccoon. Had they been tears of joy, Marinette would have teased her friend for it, most likely resulting in laughter, but this was not the time for teasing. Alya’s fears had come true. They were using her footage to blame Chat Noir. 

Pushing her anger aside, her thoughts drifted to Adrien. He had been awfully quiet during the broadcast, even refraining from playing with his beloved silver ring. It was very unlike him. Marinette glanced down the hallway tilting her head slightly when a black object on the ground caught her eye. Standing up from the couch she walked over to the object, eyes widening when she realized what it was. 

It was a feather. 

Marinette picked it up, immediately looking to Alya to see if she was in a molting cycle. The reddish brown feathers were as lush and full as ever, leading Marinette to examine the feather closer. Alya had never grown black feathers. There was no way this was hers. Now that Marinette thought about it, the only person she knew that had naturally black feathers was Chat Noir. 

That didn’t make sense. Marinette had triple checked she had cleaned up all of the superhero’s feathers last night. She didn’t want to explain that she had invited the cat boy into her room when they were obviously asleep. The teen knew for a fact that she had disposed of the damaged feathers. So what was one of Chat Noir’s feathers doing here? The trash shoot wasn’t this way. It was not possible that Marinette could have accidentally dropped a feather on this side of her parent’s apartment. 

Neither of her parents had wings, so it couldn’t have been from them. In fact, they didn't usually go down this halfway in the mornings. They used the bathroom downstairs in the back of the bakery. The last person who had used the bathroom was Adrien Agreste. Marinette’s eyes widened. 

The feather was Adrien’s. 

Hands shaking slightly, Marinette flipped the feather over in her hand. Everything seemed to be clicking together. It would explain so much of Adrien’s behavior. The way he masked his back pain, and dropping out of fencing so suddenly. If he was binding his wings, it would make so much sense. 

Rubbing the object absentmindedly she couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu at the sensation. Marinette looked down at it again, examining the feather more closely. It felt rough and stiff, almost like cardboard. Heart beat picking up, Marinette clutched the feather as the realization washed over her. 

This wasn’t the first feather that Marinette had described that way. 

“Tikki?” the pigtailed girl squeaked quietly. The red kwami appeared by her side, brow furrowing at the black feather still pressed into her hand. Tikki immediately recognized the feather as one of Chat Noir’s. 

“Yes, Marinette?” 

“I know who Chat Noir is.” 

Tikki’s eyes grew wide in surprise. She opened her mouth to speak, or come up with some sort of plausible denial. When the tiny god looked at her chosen, however, she knew any denial would be futile. Tikki looked away guiltily. Marinette had found out the truth, and she knew it. Her chosen’s blue eyes clouded with the threat of tears, the kwami’s silence had confirmed her suspicion. 

“Adrien Agreste is Chat Noir.”

“Marinette?” Tikki forced herself to snap out of her panic, “What makes you think that?

“For starters they both lost their mother’s at the same time, have overbearing fathers, fidget with objects, have similar mannerisms, not to mention their physical similarities.” 

“But Adrien doesn’t have wings?” 

Tikki cringed at the way her voice made it sound like a question. 

“Not that we have seen, but this feather,” Marinette held the feather out for Tikki to see once more, “Why would Adrien have Chat Noir’s feathers on him?” 

“Maybe it got stuck on his coat?” 

“He wasn’t wearing a coat, Tikki.” 

Pressing her lips into a thin line the kwami of creation hovered in silence. 

Marinette continued quietly, “He has been walking like his back hurts. I know from Alya that is a symptom of over binding. Chat Noir wasn’t able to fly, so it would make sense that he would bind his wings in his civilian form.” 

The girl paused a moment looking over to her friends who were still sitting in the living room. Occasionally Alya’s sniffles could be heard over the droning of the television, though, the girl didn’t look particularly sad. Alya and Nino sat next to each other on the couch, pouring avidly over Alya’s phone screen. They were mostly likely trying to do damage control. Turning back to the feather in her hands Marinette frowned, 

“No one else could have dropped this.” 

Marinette looked down the hallway to the closed bathroom door. 

Only one way to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I'm really bad at writing scenes with  
> more than two characters but I full sent it lmao
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> As always, shared if you enjoyed!
> 
> I really appreciate it. 
> 
> xoxo,  
> creative 
> 
> psst! you can find me on IG (@creatibug)  
> I post updates on the story and sometimes  
> teasers before the chapter is released !!  
> Also its an easy way to chat if you want  
> to talk about Miraculous or whatever :)


	7. Overload

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette comforts Adrien during a meltdown. While helping him sort through his senses, she discovers proof to her previous suspicions. Once he has calmed down, they rejoin Alya and Nino in the living room. There, they learn that things may not be as hopeless as they seem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning:   
> \- Meltdown   
> \- panic attack  
> \- mild descriptions of throwing up   
> \- Adrinette !! 
> 
> please read the authors note at the end

Adrien crashed into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. The sound from outside was slightly muffled from the barrier, but it was still too much. The nausea in his stomach was crawling up his throat, leading the boy to ungracefully retch over the toilet bowl. Plagg appeared by his side, rubbing the back of his chosen’s neck comfortingly. 

Nothing came out as Adrien gagged over the toilet. His body was empty. He had nothing to expel into the outside world. As his stomach continued to try and rid Adrien of the gross feeling inside of him, he curled down onto the floor. Spitting up bile, he let out a cat-like whine. 

“I’m here, kitten,” Plagg crooned worriedly. Adrien felt clammy under his paws. Between his lack of eating and Adrien’s growing anxiety, the kwami was not sure which was responsible for the unpleasant feeling to his skin. Knowing Adrien was sensitive to stimulus in general, the kwami could only imagine how uncomfortable the feeling was making his chosen. 

The blond backed away from the toilet. His stomach had given up trying to empty itself but the pressure he felt was still pulsing through his nerves. It was electrifying, but completely opposite of the excitement he had felt earlier. Whereas that had been stimulating and positive, this feeling was hot and tumultuous. Adrien pulled his sweater off, hating the way his hands shook. The turtleneck he wore underneath scratched against his skin eliciting another whine from the boy. He had rebound his wings underneath the clothing of choice to conceal them for meeting his friends, but now, more than ever he wanted them out. Everything that touched him seemed to make his hairs stand on end. 

Pressing his hands over his ears Adrien took shaky breaths to try and calm down. Everything had added up so quickly: the busy bakery, the loud television, his friends talking over each other. Each hammering nails into his coffin faster than Adrien could calm down. Rocking back and forth he squeezed his eyes shut, whimpering again. 

Plagg floated nearby. His presence provided comfort to the teen, even if there wasn’t much the kwami could do. The black cat wished he could go talk to Tikki, she was always better with these kinds of things. She could make it better. As helpful as having the kwami of creation would be, finding her— where he knew she waited in Marinette’s room— would arouse too much suspicion. Plagg had to handle this himself. 

He flitted around Adrien’s head, biting his lip as the boy let out another whimper. Plagg began purring, landing on Adrien’s shoulder. He rubbed affectionately against the boy’s hand, offering comfort in the touch.

An involuntary shudder pushed through Adrien’s body as his brain slowly processed the affront of information it was receiving. Paris hated him, and now Ladybug was going to take away his Miraculous. All of the progress he had made in three years was down the drain in the matter of minutes. Images from his own experience with the fall and Alya’s footage mixed together in his brain. They taunted him. Stealing his voice from out of his throat, and making him cower in the bathroom. They were right, Ladybug did deserve a better partner. 

He swallowed hard, squeezing his legs to his chest, to make himself smaller. Hot tears ran down his face, smudging away the concealer that hid his lack of sleep. He buried his head in his knees and let out another strangled whine. It was all he could manage. His voice was gone. 

Adrien hated how his brain felt foggy but simultaneously aware of every feeling around him. The low hum of the light switch, the worn fibers of a well used bathmat, all demanded his attention. It hurt. His body and mind had decided to battle it out for control, and Adrien was the casualty. 

It took Adrien a moment to register the soft knock on the door. It took him another few moments to process that the person who knocked was trying to talk to him. Now he had taken too long to reply. His father wouldn’t like that. He opened his mouth, not surprised when no sound came out. The tight feeling in his throat strangled his voice in a place where he could not reach it. 

Adrien uncovered his ears, wincing as his fingers grazed the bruises on his neck. Plagg immediately flew into his line of vision. The kwami spoke lowly, purr still emanating from his tiny being, 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

It took a moment before Adrien managed a jerky nod. The voice called from the door again but Adrien was too preoccupied with his inner turmoil to hear it. As the doorknob turned, Plagg realized a moment too late that Adrien had accidentally left it unlocked. Darting under the discarded sweater, Plagg cursed both he and his chosen’s luck. 

“Adrien?” Marinette poked her head in nervously. 

The blonde’s head snapped up, fear written plainly on his face. For a moment, Adrien swore he stopped breathing. The two stared at each other for a moment, blue eyes meeting green. The only movement between them was Adrien’s perpetual ring spinning. Still under the discarded sweater, Plagg scowled. Humans were so oblivious sometimes. 

“You weren’t answering and I worried something was wrong,” She stepped into the bathroom slowly, “I didn’t want you to become akumatized or something.” 

Adrien watched her from his spot on the floor. He was listening. He heard her, but he couldn’t answer, not in a way she would understand. Shifting his gaze to his discarded sweater, he wished Plagg could help him. Everything was spiraling out of his control and made him feel sick. 

Marinette closed the door behind her with a soft click. The sound was almost inaudible to her, but even the click caused Adrien to flinch further into himself. His silence was making her uneasy. Crouching down across the room, she tried to read his gaze. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. Something was wrong. 

“Are you okay?” 

Adrien seemed to brace himself at her question. She had asked him the same thing as Chat Noir. Squeezing his eyes shut once more, the blonde hugged his knees. A single sob broke through his throat, catching on the tightness and coming out strangled. Hiding his face from Marinette, he let the fresh tears fall. 

Marinette watched as the boy in front of her, the boy she had crushed on for years, sob like a wounded animal on the floor of her bathroom. It did not take her long to react. In one moment she was crouched in front of him. It was a little tight with the two of them next to the toilet, but Marinette was more focused on Adrien than their position in the bathroom. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Marinette reached out in what she hoped to be a comforting touch but as soon as her fingers brushed Adrien’s shoulder he drew backwards. His green eyes spiked upwards in surprise, like he hadn’t noticed her cross the room to him. If there wasn’t a solid wall directly behind him, Marinette was sure he would have gone through it. 

“T-too mu-much,” the blonde half stuttered half coughed out. Adrien tried to stand in order to put more distance between him and his friend. The hot shame of embarrassment surged through the turbulent emotions that spun in his brain. Swaying on shaky legs, Adrien’s strangled whine was cut short by a shuddering breath. His lungs felt tight. 

Marinette’s eyes widened as she watched Adrien pull away. Quickly reaching out to catch the boy as his legs turned to jelly. The boy sucked in a tight breath as he fell. 

Suddenly he was no longer in Marinette’s bathroom, he was back at the Eiffel Tower. Full blown panic coursed through his veins. Adrien was falling. He was going to be sick.

The pigtailed girl thanked her time as Ladybug for her quick reflexes. Another strangled sob racked his body as Marinette caught him. For a moment she was surprised at how light he was. She could have caught him easily, even without her enhanced Ladybug strength. He reached out for the toilet, seemingly oblivious to Marinette’s arms still around his torso. 

“Oh Adrien,” sympathy filled Marinette’s voice as the boy she was holding choked up bile. Adrien trembled as another dry-heave rolled through his body. The shaking reminded her so much of Chat Noir it hurt. She eased him down to his knees so he wouldn’t be awkwardly sprawled across her lap and the floor, then rubbed his back gently while the nausea ran its course. 

Adrien was embarrassed. It pushed his voice down further, silencing the anguished cries he had expelled. None of his friends had ever seen him like this before. Marinette probably hated him even more now. He felt so stupid for letting such mundane things drive him to overload. He fought villains in his spare time for goodness sake. 

At least he felt in control as Chat Noir. 

The comfort might have been fabricated by his mind to help him cope with risking his life almost every day, but Adrien had always felt in control as Chat Noir. That is, until he had fallen. Now he had lost all sense of control. 

His mind and body were betraying him. 

“Do you want a glass of water?” Marinette asked. The pigtailed girl was still rubbing Adrien’s back. It was soothing. The repetitive circles she drew with her palm eased the tension in his body. The boy didn’t spare a second thought to the fact that her hands were currently touching his bound wings, his brain was scattered to other things. 

Marinette knew what the slight bumps on Adrien’s back were. She had looked at enough wing binder designs to know where the straps were supposed to cross and Adrien was confirming her suspicion with flying colors. She discreetly glanced down to his lower back where his shirt had ridden up from leaning over the toilet. Marinette suppressed a gasp as black feathers poked out of a clearly well fitting binder. 

Deep down she knew it was wrong. She was basically taking advantage of his vulnerability to confirm her suspicions about his identity. Tikki’s disapproving glance flashed into her vision but Marinette pushed it away. She was doing this to help Adrien, not anything else. 

But she had been right. Adrien was Chat Noir. 

Adrien nodded jerkily, resting back on folded legs. He hadn’t really thrown up, but burning acid still stung his throat. As Marinette eased herself away from Adrien, she watched as his green eyes focused downwards to his hands. His long, pale fingers took the silver ring from his hand and squeezed it into his palms. Chat Noir did the same action with his tail. 

Now that Marinette knew the truth, similarity after similarity jumped out at her. The sensitivity to sound, the jerky speech when overwhelmed, all were traits her partner had. Now, they were apparent in Adrien. She had been so blind before. 

She was angry with herself, but tried not to let it show. Adrien needed her to be calm, so she forced the anger back to focus on the situation in front of her. Yet, the sharp, guilty thoughts still managed to worm their way into her head. She had been obsessed with Adrien for years, How has she never noticed? She thought she knew the boy. Now she knew how naïve that belief had been. Adrien had managed to fool them all. 

Reaching into the cabinet, Marinette pulled out a small disposable cup. As quietly as she could manage, the girl filled it up with water from the tap. Adrien hadn’t moved from his spot on the ground, but he had shut his eyes, preventing Marinette from seeing a key indicator to gauge his thoughts. Even if she couldn't guess what he was thinking, she was thankful that his breathing was returning to normal. She supposed that meant that the worst had passed. 

The teen crouched next to her friend, speaking softly, “I have water for you.” 

Eyes opening slowly, Adrien took the small cup from Marinette’s hands. He continued to avoid her gaze, not wanting to put forth the effort on deciphering her feelings when he could barely understand his own. While the demanding emotions of his meltdown were waning, they were not through with him yet. His brain felt like a disconnected jumble of thoughts, hardly making sense; however his body seemed to know what to do. Darkly, Adrien figured he knew the winner of this battle. 

Marinette restrained her sudden urge to hold Adrien as he took the water from her hand. The obvious trembling of the cup as he raised it to his lips was just one evidence of the boy’s distress. His green eyes were rimmed red from tears, and the dark circles under them seemed to become even more hollow. His usually impeccable image was disheveled. The dark green collar of his turtleneck slipped downwards, exposing the ghosts of purple bruises along his windpipe. Biting her lip, Marinette suppressed a shiver at the physical reminder of Adrien’s suffering. He was her partner. They were supposed to protect each other. Her eyes began to water. 

Every instance where Chat had jumped into the line of fire for her played back in her memory, except this time, Adrien’s face was unmasked. It had been Adrien Agreste protecting her all of these years. Every fist bump, late night patrol, a listening ear as she complained about school or boy drama, all had been shared with him. 

What had she done for him? 

She was sure that she hadn’t been a completely horrible partner to Chat Noir over the years. He knew she cared about him, at least she hoped he knew. However, in this charged moment, her memory was not gracing her with the good memories. Instead it took the time to remind her of the bad. Every rejection to his flirtations, every dismissal of his opinion, the shock and shaded betrayal that flashed across his face when she told him things she had learned from Master Fu before becoming the guardian. It stung. 

Marinette was thankful Adrien was not looking at her face as a single tear streaked down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, not unlike he had done last night in her room. Their partner dynamic was flawed, but maybe she could work to fix it. 

Voice watery, she spoke up, “Would you like a hug?” 

Adrien’s hands faltered in their repetitive spinning and squeezing of his miraculous ring. The question took him off guard. Usually when he got like this, Adrien was left alone to deal with it. If it happened during an event, he was expected to either push through and burnout later, or politely excuse himself. Lately, he had been forced to do the former whether he wanted to or not. 

Adrien had become used to going through these moments of indecipherable wrongness alone. 

Marinette wiped another stray tear away as Adrien shifted closer. Wordlessly, she accepted him into an embrace, surprised when he hugged back with such ferocity. Now that they were closer, Marinette could feel the tension caught in the other teen’s form. He pressed his forehead into her shoulder, much like he did as Chat Noir.

Adrien couldn’t recall ever being this close to Marinette, yet, a flash of déjà vu still coursed through him. This position was so familiar, but he couldn’t place when it had happened before. A low whine escaped his closed mouth. The boy felt like he should know why this seemed so familiar. His foggy brain provided no help. 

“I’m here,” Marinette whispered. The sounds Adrien made only further cemented the two identities together. Adrien and Chat Noir. Chat Noir and Adrien. Marinette began carding her fingers through Adrien’s blond locks, hoping that it would provide as much comfort as it did when they were transformed. 

Eventually, the girl felt Adrien relax against her. 

Marinette felt relief course through her as her partner became calm enough to relax. The tension she had felt in his shoulders was gone. His vice-like hug around her torso loosened. Adrien seemed much more at peace then when she had found him. Slowly, the pigtailed girl untangled herself from him, searching his eyes for how he was doing. 

The blond met her gaze, unfocused and cloudy. Her blue eyes swallowed him like the ocean. Yet, he didn’t feel like he was drowning. Adrien knew he was safe with Marinette, even if he could not pinpoint what had made him feel this way. The boy just knew. 

However, Adrien couldn’t hold her gaze for long. It stirred something in the back of his mind, just out of reach. The fog that swept inside his brain made it hard to think, hard to process. Using one hand Adrien rubbed his eyes, blinking away the blurriness left behind by tears. He felt so stupid, so useless. He was supposed to be strong. 

“I’m sorry,” the blond mumbled. Adrien forced himself to meet Marinette’s eyes again. The sheen of unshed tears that rested there surprised him. 

Had he made Marinette cry? Had he hurt her by hugging her too tightly? 

Her steady voice interrupted his thoughts, “You have nothing to be sorry for. We didn’t mean this to be overwhelming. I’m sorry there wasn’t more I could do to help.” 

Marinette wanted to apologize for much more. She wanted to beg for her partner’s forgiveness. She had ignored the signs of his wing damage as Chat Noir, and his unexplained back pain as Adrien. The girl took a breath centering herself. She had to stay calm. There would be time for those apologies. 

“Are you ready to rejoin the others?” 

Adrien blinked slowly. His mind was still wrapped in cobwebs, but he wanted to be with his friends. While they had been rowdy before, they usually helped Adrien to loosen up. He wanted to be with them. 

He turned to the girl next to him.

The boy was grateful that Marinette was so kind, however tendrils of guilt still clawed their way into his stomach. He had ruined the viewing party. Would they be upset with him? Upset with Chat Noir? 

“I-” the blonde started, cringing at the way his voice caught in his throat. The tightness that wound his vocal cords immobile sliced through the words, warping them into something else entirely. He settled for a simple, hesitant nod. 

The hesitance was not lost to Marinette. 

Tikki’s words rang in her head. Although the kwami had a point—Marinette should trust Chat Noir— after learning that her partner and her longtime crush were the same person, as well as the fact that said crush had been hiding his wings for years, she hesitated. She wanted Adrien to be happy. She wanted Chat Noir to be happy. The more she thought about it, the less she was sure that he wanted the same thing. 

Why would he hide his suffering for so long? Had he told anyone? 

The girl’s eyes widened. 

What if this was Gabriel’s fault? 

Marinette recalled the way Chat—Adrien had squirmed when talking about his father. Could the discomfort be related? 

Before she could examine the thought further she felt a tug on her wrist. Adrien had his gaze downwards, but the meaning was irrefutable. She let go of her thoughts. Placing them into a little box to unpack at a later time. He looked up, not quite meeting her eyes nor let going of her arm. The shaking of his hands had subsided, leaving only his fingers twitching occasionally. Marinette was a little surprised he had not gone back to fidgeting with his ring. 

Adrien tugged her arm towards the door. His presence remained silent, but supportive. He paused to pull his discarded sweater over his head. Marinette pretended not to know why he wanted to wear it. She was still unsure that reuniting with their friends was the best idea, but when Adrien reattached himself to her arm he felt more sure of himself. He could handle this. Whether it was the right decision or not, Marinette allowed Adrien to pull her out into the hallway. 

What stuck the pair first was the silence. Nino and Alya had turned the television off; no one was complaining. As Marinette and Adrien cleared the hallway they saw Ayla and Nino sitting on the couch, hunched over the tiny screen of the blogger’s phone. 

“What are you guys doing?” 

In the back of her mind Marinette was just glad that none of her friends had gotten akumatized. After a few years of dealing with Hawk Moth, Parisians had learned the benefits of being able to manage their negative emotions. However, when injustice ran rampant it was hard to remember to think positive. The pigtailed girl knew that they wouldn’t be out of the woods for a while. 

Nino was the one to answer, “Damage control.”

“Are you okay? How bad is it?” 

Marinette felt Adrien’s grip on her arm tighten. 

“Once you get over the death threats it’s not so bad,” Alya snapped irritably. The anger was clearly directed at anonymous commenters online, not at her friend. The brunette didn’t even glance up from her phone. Her fingers flew over the keyboard with the ferocity of lions. 

Marinette was glad that she had the ability to protect Alya as Ladybug. The girl was not above accidentally stumbling across Alya as her hero identity and escorting her home. No one would follow through on those threats as long as she was around. She would also protect Chat Noir, if he needed it. Though, the cat had received similar threats beforehand and had managed to handle them himself. At least, he had never told her about any of them getting out of hand. 

Glancing to the worry etched in Adrien’s face, however, she began to wonder if that had been true. 

Adrien spoke quietly, forcing his words out, “What about Chat Noir?” 

The pair looked up, at the sound of his voice. 

“Dude… you look like shit.” 

Adrien blew air out of his nose, as if ‘shit’ was an understatement. While the model schooled his face into one of nonchalance, Marinette felt Adrien’s fingers switch on her arm. He was anxious again. 

“Adrien was feeling a little sick but he is better now.” 

The words left her mouth before she could stop them. Marinette wasn’t proud of her ability to think of excuses on the spot, but spending three years as Ladybug had forced her to develop this skill. She convinced herself that the statement was not a complete lie. Adrien had been sick in her bathroom, but she was not inclined to believe that was the only reason he looked so rough. The blonde dropped his gaze to the floor, nodding in agreement. 

A look of understanding and realization flashed in Nino’s eyes, however the worried glance he shot at Adrien was missed by the teen. He removed his hand from Marinette’s arm and began to spin his ring on his finger. Forcing his gaze back up, Adrien pulled a half-hearted model smile across his lips. He was fooling no one. 

Yet, the restless moving that had become the boy’s trademark had returned. That was a sign that Adrien was starting to feel normal again. Tension, a tension Marinette was not aware she was holding, was released into the air. The fidgeting was a good sign. 

Nino patted an empty spot on the couch, gesturing for the pair to come closer. Adrien moved to sit down, pulling his legs up on the cushions. He looked so small. The too large sweater spilled over his legs like a blanket, only adding to the effect. The blond leaned into Nino, resting his head on his friend’s shoulder. Toxic masculinity was never an issue between them. 

Marinette shoved down the tinge of jealousy she felt at the two boys’ closeness. She sat down next to Adrien, repeating the mantra, ‘He’s just a friend,’ in her head. However, now that she knew Adrien was Chat Noir, she was not sure if friend would be the best way to describe it. Chat   
Noir confessed his love to Marinette as Ladybug, and Marinette knew she liked Adrien, knowing that the two most important boys in her life were actually the same person made things complicated. Adrien still had no idea that Marinette was Ladybug. Would he still like her if he found out the girl he claimed to love was just plain old Marinette? 

“Things are actually looking a lot better than that first caller would lead us to believe,” Alya said. 

She opened a new page on her phone screen. Reaching across the boys, she handed it to Marinette. The pigtailed girl took the phone, tilting in towards Adrien as she felt him shift next to her. He deserved to see it too, especially because it was so closely tied to his hero persona. 

The blogger had left open the comment section of the news website. Every so often the page would refresh showing a new stream of comments. 

It was very heated. 

As Marinette read what people were saying about her partner, she felt her grip on the phone tighten with anger. She wanted to go full Ladybug on these people. How dare they attack her partner for something he couldn’t control. It wasn’t his fault he could not fly. As the page refreshed, Marinette saw the all too familiar slur for winged people flash across the forum. 

“It doesn’t look all that great to me,” she glanced at Alya, her voice dark. 

The brunette sighed, reaching over Adrien and Nino once again. This time she stayed sprawled across Nino’s lap, arms draped over Adrien’s curled legs to reach her phone. Nino paid no mind to being squished, instead he settled into the couch cushions and let his friend and his girlfriend do their thing. He had always been a good sport. 

Alya scrolled through the comments, deciding to read one aloud. 

“Chat Noir deserves the freedom to show his wings as both a hero and a civilian.” 

She scrolled farther, “Chat Noir always protects Ladybug, now it is our turn to protect him. #banbinders” 

Marinette took the phone back, still angry at the comments she has read before. This time she read some of the not so positive responses.

“What about ‘Chat Noir’s silence attacks the progress to the ban of binders’ or ‘Ladybug would have been better off if she had let him hit the ground.’?” 

“But Mari, look…” 

Alya pressed one of the blue links that had begun to pop up more and more with every refresh. 

“While his fall may have fueled his dissenters, it also brought a lot of awareness to the anti-binder movement. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who put together the bigger picture.” 

The link led to an RSVP page for a newly scheduled protest. Judging by sheer numbers alone, it looked like almost everyone was planning to go. 

“There are people who are angry at Chat, whether it be from lack of action or simply because he has wings, but this could be the final push we have been looking for.” 

The anger in Marinette’s chest was replaced with hope. This had to be enough support for the mayor to get behind the protestors. Turning to look at the boy beside her, she wondered what he thought of this. If the use of binders was prohibited, he would finally be free. He wouldn’t have to hide. Maybe she could get Alya to teach Chat Noir how to fly as Rena Rouge. 

Alya continued, “I am also hoping that once I clear the air around my own release of the footage, I can further sway people onto our side. This is going to be the biggest protest Paris has ever seen.” 

“Which is why we are coming with you,” Nino added. 

Alya seemed to have trouble computing that statement. 

“What?” 

“We are going to come protest with you.” 

Adrien shot up from Nino’s shoulder, resulting in Alya scrambling a hold of Nino’s lap in order to keep from falling off the couch. 

“I can’t go,” Adrien said shakily. He glanced at Alya apologetically but whether it was for almost startling her off the couch or not being able to support the protest they were not sure. 

“My father…” 

Before Adrien could finish Alya’s ringtone chimed shrilly. She glanced at her phone, checking to see who was calling. 

“Oh,” Alya wrinkled her nose, “it's my mom.” 

“Oh?” Nino asked, “We all love Mrs. Césaire, put her on speaker.” 

Shrugging, Ayla answered the call. None of the four friends were prepared to listen to Alya’s mom yell,

“ALYA CÉSAIRE!”

The blogger immediately took her mother off speaker. Nino, Marinette and Adrien exchanged confused looks as they listened to half the conversation. 

“Hi mom,” the girl said sheepishly, “did you see the airing?” 

There was a pause in which Alya grimaced. Her mother seemed pretty upset. 

“I understand you’re worried mom, but I was careful.” 

There was another pause. Alya sighed, clearly not happy with what her mother was saying. The girl mouthed an ‘I’m sorry’ to her friends before moving across the room to Marinette’s front door. Giving a one moment sign to her friends, she stepped into the stairwell. 

When Alya had fully stepped out, Nino turned to Adrien. 

“It’s okay. I know your father is not going to let you go to a protest anytime soon, but we can video call and it will be like you’re right there with us!” 

Adrien seemed to relax at Nino’s comment. Marinette, although a little peeved that Nino had spoken for her about her participation, knew he meant well. She would have to find a way to break away and also show up as Ladybug, but that she could manage. It made sense for her to go. She would be closer if an akuma were to attack, and she could show her support. 

“Yeah!” Marinette agreed cheerily, “Almost as good as the real thing.” 

Alya took that moment to come back into the apartment. 

“Well, my mom is insisting on picking me up because she doesn’t want me to walk home alone after the airing. She basically said if I was going to do stupid things like run into danger and then get threats for posting what I see she doesn’t want me out after dark.” 

“Ouch,” Nino said, standing up and going to his girlfriend’s side. He took her hand sweetly. She leaned into him, gazing up into his eyes. 

“She is downstairs waiting in the car,” The brunette then pecked a quick kiss onto Nino’s cheek, “she also offered to drive you home since it’s freezing.” 

Nino brought his free hand to his heart, “I'm touched, but what about Adrien?” 

“I'm sure she wouldn’t mind…” 

From the couch Adrien’s eyes went wide. The blond could feel his friend’s gazes, seemingly piercing though to his core. He couldn’t risk Alya’s mom dropping him off. If he his father somehow saw, he would know Adrien had snuck out. Then Adrien could kiss his already restricted freedom goodbye. The boy needed to think of an excuse and fast. 

There was no way his friends would believe that he would be fine walking home without a real coat. Being out in the sun during the day was one thing, but the night air would cut through the material of his sweater quickly. 

“Um,” He brought his hands together, fingers quickly finding the familiar shape of his ring, “Nathalie is actually going to pick me up soon.” 

“Oh!” Nino sounded genuinely surprised, but the nuance was lost to Adrien. The silence between the friends lasted a bit too long, quickly turning uncomfortable. 

“Well,” Alya cleared her throat, “we should get going.” 

Marinette piped up, “I can walk you out.” 

“Girl! Don’t be silly! Stay here with Adrien,” She winked mischievously. 

Marinette blushed profusely, “A-Are you sure?” 

She was going to kill Alya for this. What was she thinking? She knew that Adrien was just a friend. 

“Yeah dudette,” Nino smiled, catching his girlfriend’s drift, “We know the way.” 

Adrien felt like he was missing something, but his brain was only just starting to clear away the cobwebs. Slowly, but surely, he felt his system rebooting. Nino and Alya waved goodbye to him and Marinette, leaving silence in their wake. Adrien listened as their footsteps faded down the stairs until he couldn't hear them anymore. 

Next to him Marinette was blushing profusely, but Adrien was none the wiser. The girl was very glad that the boy missed nonverbal cues sometimes because Nino and Alya had basically spelled out her former crush on the boy. Inside her head she emphasized the word ‘former.’ 

In the quiet, Adrien seemed more at ease. Marinette knew he loved his friends, but she understood that sometimes even they could be a bit much. Adrien turned on the couch. From his new position he could lean his side onto the back rest without further crushing his wings. Now facing Marinette, the boy gave her a small smile, hoping to be reassuring. 

“Are you okay?” she asked. 

Adrien sighed. Everyone seemed to be asking him that lately, and he was not a huge fan of the question. 

In truth, Adrien was not okay. He felt cold all of the time, and he found himself getting overwhelmed more quickly than usual. His brain felt cloudy and oversensitive. His back hurt. He was failing at living up to his father’s expectations. He was failing to live up to Paris’ expectations. 

But what good would dumping all of that on Marinette do?

He had already come to her, altho accidentally, as Chat Noir. Adrien knew that he should not have stayed that night, but there was something about Marinette. Her heart was so big, and so caring. Adrien felt safe with her, as both of his identities. Something in him was telling him to trust her.   
But he pushed it away. Marinette didn’t deserve to be bogged down by his problems. 

“I’m okay,” Adrien answered. His voice sounded stronger. The tightness in his throat was almost gone. 

Marinette was not fooled this time. She saw the sadness that lingered in the model’s green irises, the pain they held. It frustrated her that he would lie. Couldn’t he see she was there for him, with or without to suit? She wanted to help, but she couldn’t do that if he didn’t tell her. Briefly she debated telling him she knew his identity, but ultimately discarded the idea. He had already been through a lot today, the last thing he needed was another bombshell. 

So, Marinette changed the subject. 

“Would you like to watch a movie until Nathalie comes?” 

Adrien blinked, seemingly confused for a moment. Had he forgotten that Nathalie was coming? 

Shaking his head as if to clear it, Adrien nodded, “Disney?” 

“I know just the film.” 

Marinette got up from the couch and opened one of the drawers in the television stand. There were some video games interspersed with the various titles, but somehow Marinette doubted Adrien was in the right frame of mind to keep up with a video game. She finally found the title she was looking for and popped it into the DVD player. 

The blonde shifted again on the couch, lying down on the plush surface. The pigtailed girl turned to look at him, smiling when he yawned. 

“Sleepy?” she teased. 

Adrien pouted, “No.” 

Marinette stifled a laugh as she turned on the television. The boy was cute when he pouted. Privately she hoped he would be able to get some sleep, the dark circles under his eyes exposed how much he needed it. Once the TV was set up and the movie began to play Marinette made her way back over to the couch. 

The teenage boy had sprawled out across its length, taking up all of the room. Marinette was not about to sit on the floor. 

Adrien was polite enough to move his head to make room for her, but he didn’t look quite as comfortable as he had. The pigtailed girl sighed, pushing down the feelings that threatened to bubble up in her chest. 

“Come on,” She patted her lap. 

Adrien hesitated as if unsure if he was allowed. In a spurt of Ladybug confidence Marinette reached out, catching the boy’s hair in her fingers. She began to rub his head where she knew he liked it as Chat Noir. Pausing, she realized how odd that was. If Adrien didn’t like it outside of his suit she would be mortally embarrassed. 

She got her answer. 

Faster than she anticipated, Adrien’s head was in her lap. Even though the movie was playing in the background, Marinette was more focused on staying calm than the plot. She kept combing her fingers through his hair. The messy locks would look much more like Chat Noir’s messy hairstyle than Adrien’s coiffed style when she was done but neither party seemed to care. 

They sat like that for a while, watching the movie unfold. Eventually Adrien’s eyelids began to droop. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so at ease, and as Adrien no less. Before the sweet release of sleep overcame him, however, he mumbled something too Marinette. It was so soft that Adrien was scarcely sure that Marinette had heard him. 

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the message in this fanficton is incredibly important with everything going on in the world right now. 
> 
> Don't be racist. 
> 
> That being said, please do not let this anti-racist momentum die out after the news cycle has moved on. Right now, the world need your voice, and your support. Use this time to educate yourself and stand on the right side of history. Stand with POC brothers and sisters to fight for equity of treatment, which they should have received long ago. Learn about structural racism, and what reforms need to be made to combat it. Look into local charities and volunteer opportunities to help. Donate money if you can, and time if you cannot. Read a book! Talk about racism with your family and friends, especially if it is uncomfortable. Change doesn't happen when people are comfortable. Acknowledge that discomfort and allow it to help you. VOTE!!! Pre-register if you are too young to vote. Send letters to your representatives. Sign petitions! Go protest if you are able! 
> 
> If you are white, like myself, take a look at yourself. Check your privilege, and use that privilege to help make the world a better place. However, also make sure you are not centering yourself in the movement; although your support is appreciated, it is not about you. Listen to others, especially those who have actually experienced racism. Your effort might inspire the next person to be more active so keep putting in that effort. 
> 
> Be safe, but still participate. 
> 
> thank you for reading   
> both this note and my chapter  
> as always, please share if you enjoyed 
> 
> xoxo   
> creative


	8. Unmasked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Adrien asleep on her couch, Marinette asks Tikki for advice about what she should do. A clear difference of opinion becomes evident, but before the kwami and her holder can work things out, Adrien awakes. Ultimately, Marinette decides to confront Adrien about what she knows, but things don't go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hella Adrinette

Adrien Agreste was asleep on her lap. 

If someone had told Marinette this information two years ago she would have combusted on the spot. Her feelings for Adrien had been so strong she probably would have been vibrating with both anxiety and excitement. Now, however, the pigtailed girl’s mind was far from thoughts of her lingering romantic attraction.

The movie they put on ended a few minutes ago, but Marinette stayed glued to her spot on the couch. She didn’t want to wake Adrien. It was clear the blond needed sleep. The dark circles under his eyes were an indicative sample, and Marinette needed some time to process her discovery. Her hand gently rose to brush against his back, feeling the almost indiscernible straps of his wing binder through the braiding on his sweater. Marinette quickly withdrew as the boy shifted, snuggling deeper against her. 

Adrien looked at peace in his slumber. His porcelain face was serene, free from tension or worry. It was a rare and beautiful sight.

Marinette wished she could freeze time and bottle up this feeling. She knew they could both benefit from having the ability to conjure this feeling of peace when things felt like they were falling apart. And how quickly did things seem to fall apart. Judging by recent events however, Marinette wondered if things had ever been together in the first place. 

The girl took a breath, gathering herself as she tried not to cry. 

Three years. Ladybug and Chat Noir had been partners for three years. Marinette and Adrien had been friends for three years. 

Marinette bit her lip. She had been so blind.

“Tikki?” she whispered. 

The red kwami darted to Marinette’s shoulder snuggling close to her neck to avoid being seen if her parents came upstairs from the bakery. Tikki was nervous. She didn’t want Marinette to be upset with her for withholding the information about her partner’s identity for so long. The kwami had just been doing her job as a servant to the miraculous. Knowing Chat Noir and Adrien were the same person could have saved both teens a lot of heartache, but Tikki had sworn to protect her holders. With a threat like Hawk Moth on the loose, it would have been too dangerous to divulge their identities. 

However, Tikki would be lying if she said that was the only reason she hadn’t revealed Chat Noir’s identity. Both Marinette and Adrien were so young, and so hopelessly enamored with each other. As much as Tikki loved Marinette, she had a duty to the miraculous. Ladybug and Chat Noir had to be focused if they were to defeat Hawkmoth.

It was true that the young heroes had advanced their skills tremendously in the past three years, yet, Tikki still felt uneasy. Hawk Moth was a real threat. This was not a game. This was war. Her magical cure may heal the city after every fight, but that didn’t change the gravity of the situation. They could not afford to lose any other miraculouses, nor risk the corruption of other holders. The Chat Blanc alternate timeline spoke for itself. 

“Why didn’t he say something?” Marinette’s voice came out low and dejected. 

Tikki’s expression softened. The kwami watched her chosen’s eyes glass with the luster of unshed tears, giving the appearance of bottomless pools. 

“He probably didn’t know how…” 

“He had to have known we wouldn’t have loved him any less,” Marinette blinked back the tears, “I mean, Alya rants about winged rights all the time and we all support her. He had to have known.” 

“He probably was taught to keep it a secret, maybe he didn’t want to worry about the repercussions?” 

“But why not tell Ladybug?” 

Tikki was at a loss for words. She didn’t have the answers. 

Marinette looked down at the still sleeping boy in her lap. She would have helped him. In either of her identities, she would have helped him. Even if she couldn’t magically undo all of the damage to his wings, she would have been there for him. She could have supported him, hopefully making the burden of his secret a little lighter. After all, she knew how exhausting it was to keep a secret from the people she cared about. 

Marinette wanted to help him. 

Tikki watched the dark cloud of guilt and confusion flicker across her chosen’s face. The kwami could only imagine what was going through the girl’s head. She had been hopelessly devoted to this boy for so long. Marinette had to be kicking herself for not noticing the signs. Adrien had done a thorough job at keeping this from becoming public; the little signs that slipped through were easy to ignore if you had no suspicions. Secretly, Tikki thought that Gabriel had more to do with that than Adrien did, but that did not answer why the boy had not confided in Ladybug. 

She supposed that being Chat Noir had drastically changed Adrien’s perception of the world. As far as they knew, Adrien had been wingless. Clearly this was not the case, but that led Tikki to believe that he had been hiding his wings from the beginning. He never would have experienced the world through the lens of someone who actively showed their wings. People suddenly treating him differently as Chat Noir must have been an unfortunate culture shock. 

“You could ask him…” Tikki suggested. 

Ladybug, obviously, didn’t have wings. Tikki knew that she tended to avoid talking about wings versus unwinged issues with Chat, but that was because she hadn’t wanted to offend him by saying something wrong. Marinette hadn’t been quite as involved with Alya’s protesting when she had first become Ladybug. Blissful ignorance had kept her quiet. Originally, Tikki didn’t see a problem with this. It was important that the holders of the ladybug and black cat miraculouses work in harmony, and if Marinette was uncomfortable bringing it up, then it probably wasn’t good for the overall meshing of their duo. 

However, now that the situation had become more clear to her, Tikki regretted not saying anything. There had been other pairings of winged and unwinged Ladybugs and Chat Noir’s in the past and sometimes the miraculous power had to be revoked due to bigoted opinions. Letting Marinette remain silent as Ladybug may have caused Chat Noir to mask the damage to his wings. 

If Chat Noir had been afraid to tell Ladybug about his situation because of how other people had reacted to seeing a hero with wings, then the partners needed to talk about it themselves. It was not the kwami’s place to put words in Adrien’s mouth, and the conversation had been a long time coming. However, if they were going to have it now, Marinette would have to reveal herself as Ladybug. 

Tikki was not a fan of that. There were still too many unknowns about Hawk Moth. 

“Maybe you could ask as Marinette?” 

The pigtailed girl glanced up from where she had been watching Adrien sleep peacefully, “Even though I know who he is… you still want me to keep my identity a secret.” 

Glancing away, Tikki said nothing. It wasn’t a question. Marinette was correct yet again. There was so much riding on the young holders. Tikki wished that this discovery had come at a better time, but alas, now Ladybug new Chat Noir’s identity. If Hawk Moth ever found this out, he may try to capture her.

Before the argument could escalate, however, Adrien stirred. 

Marinette held her breath as Adrien stretched. He seemed not to have realized the position they were in, nor that the movie was over. Tikki vanished out of sight, leaving the two teens alone. 

“Adrien?” The blunette spoke quietly. 

“Mmm,” Adrien’s voice was still thick with sleep. His eyes blinked open slowly, the green irises blurry from his slumber. They had yet to focus on Marinette. Brow furrowing, he not so subtly reached a hand to his back, grumbling illegibly. It would have been quite adorable if Marinette hadn’t figured out he was hiding his wings. The blond pushed himself up into a sitting position and rubbed his eyes groggily. 

“Plagg?” he yawned. 

Marinette’s eyes blew wide. Adrien must have forgotten she was with him. Before he could accidentally compromise his identity even further the girl spoke up. 

“You fell asleep.” 

Upon hearing her voice, Adrien suddenly became very awake. His eyes snapped into focus, quickly clearing of any of the groggy fog. 

He sputtered, “Marinette.” 

The beat of silence that passed was emphasized by the twin blushes they shared. Marinette was embarrassed that she had caught Adrien off guard. His lips remained parted slightly as he processed what he had just revealed. She could read the conflict in his eyes. Adrien wasn’t sure if he should give the statement oxygen by providing a lame excuse or just let it lie. Plagg was not a name that Marinette, or any of his friends for that matter, would be familiar with. 

They both spoke at the same time. 

“I can explain.” 

“I need to tell you something.” 

Adrien began rotating his ring around his fingers; Marinette tucked a strand of hair over her ear. The girl chuckled lightly, the blush that painted her cheeks flushed darker making her blue eyes shine. A flutter stirred in Adrien’s heart. He brought a hand to his chest, his fingers brushing over where his heart beat strongly. The blond had felt this way before, but never as Adrien. This was how he felt as Chat Noir when he had first met Ladybug. It confused him. Why was he experiencing it now?

Marinette’s eyes followed the movement. She tried not to think about the way Adrien’s eyes lingered on her lips. Quirking them up into a small smile she watched a glow of happiness permeate the blond’s eyes. Her heart swelled, though she quickly shot the feeling down. Adrien was just being friendly; he was just a friend. 

“Please,” Adrien’s hands flew back together, “you go first.” 

Ever the gentleman, Marinette thought. 

She wrung her hands together, wishing she had a ring to fidget with like Adrien. However, she had to go through with it. It wasn’t fair to Adrien to leave him in the dark. Marinette knew his identity, and that put him at risk. She may be Ladybug, but it still wasn’t fair to him. 

“Can we go upstairs?” 

Adrien nodded. He stood quickly, too quickly. The room spun. The blond quickly remembered he had skipped breakfast and then upchucked the meager contents of his stomach a few hours ago. Not eating lunch did not help either. Marinette caught him by the arm, supporting him with a surprising amount of strength. 

“Geez, Adrien,” Marinette’s hand curled around his bicep. She tried not to notice how easily her petite hand could curl around the muscle, but even as she stared into his eyes, the smallness of his arm grabbed her attention. She brought her other hand up to support his back, pressing gently as not to crush his wings. 

“Are you okay?”

Blinking the black spots away, Adrien brushed Marinette’s hand away. 

“Yes,” He forced a smile, “just a little light headed. I had a small breakfast… I mean lunch! I had a small lunch.” 

The pigtailed girl frowned but turned to go upstairs to her room. She watched Adrien out of her peripheral vision, making sure she could catch him if he looked like he was about to fall over again. Honestly, the boy was worrying her. Over the past month she had noticed Chat Noir losing weight, but had never really noticed the same thing happening to Adrien. She guessed it helped that she only saw Chat in a very tight super suit whereas Adrien tended to wear several layers of clothing. Now she knew it was to hide a wing binder, but before she had just assumed he was modest. After all, it couldn’t have been easy having all of Paris scrutinize your body all of the time. This was not the first time Adrien—or Chat Noir for that matter— had lost weight, but he usually walked the borderline of being too skinny, not surpassed it. This was a whole new level. 

The pair climbed into the girl’s room lost in thought. Marinette’s quiet nervous energy went unnoticed to the boy as they entered the room. The warm pink flooded Adrien’s senses, settling over him like a blanket of calm. His busy hands were instantly soothed into stillness. 

Marinette sat on the floor, shooting him a smile from the sea of pink. The girl hoped it was reassuring, but with the nerves coursing through her system she figured it looked more like a grimace. A blur of red caught the corner of her eye and it took more willpower than Marinette expected to not look at her kwami. The girl wanted the tiny god's reassurance that everything would work out, but she had to tell Adrien what she had discovered before she even brought up the topic of Ladybug. Marinette could feel Tikki’s apprehensive gaze staring at her from her hiding place. The prickle of hairs on the back of her neck did nothing to calm the blunette’s nerves. 

“I have something to tell you.” 

Adrien sat next to her, posture relaxed. With his hair messy from his nap on the couch and his spot slouched on the floor, Marinette could see the Chat Noir that lurked inside the model. She found the unease she had carried into the conversation lessen. This was her partner. There was nothing to be afraid of. 

The blond looked her in the eye, maintaining the gaze almost aggressively. Marinette knew he meant well. The teen was still a little slow to proper social cues but Marinette didn’t mind. Adrien just wanted to prove he was giving her his undivided attention. She found it endearing. 

After a few moments, however, she could tell that staring into her eyes was starting to make him uncomfortable. The blue-eyed girl glanced down to her hands, purposefully lessening any strain she could. She watched through her eyelashes as Adrien began to spin his ring around his fingers. He didn’t express it verbally, but Marinette could tell that the boy was relieved. This would make it easier. 

“I…”

Now that she had the opportunity to tell Adrien what she knew, she found herself at a loss for words. She didn’t want to startle him into a panic, especially after the whole news story debacle. However, she knew that if she didn’t tell him right now, as Marinette, this would come back to bite her. If it had been her in his position, she would want to know her identity had been compromised. 

“Chat Noir came to visit me last night.” 

Adrien’s eyes widened. He was not sure why Marinette was telling him this. It may have been stupid to come to her as Chat Noir, but there was no reason for her so suspect they were the same person. Although he didn’t particularly like binding his wings in his civilian form, it deterred anyone from drawing connections between himself and the hero.

“Wow!” Adrien tried to sound enthusiastic. He secretly wanted to hear what Marinette had thought of his alter ego. He knew she liked the hero— a few years ago he had accidentally caused her father to be akumatized due to rejecting her proposal for a date— but hearing her express her opinions to someone who she didn’t know was actually Chat Noir was different. There was no reason for her to hold anything back from Adrien. 

“It must have been so amazing meeting a hero of Paris! What was he like?”

Adrien Agreste was not smooth. Marinette did her best to hide her smirk, but to no avail. Thankfully for her, Adrien didn’t notice the nuance in her smile. 

“He was nice. A little upset from the akuma battle, but that was understandable. ” 

Adrien’s heart swelled. She thought he was nice. 

Marinette saw the green eyes of her partner light up and couldn’t help the teasing comment that slipped out, “He looked a little mangy though.” 

If Adrien had been transformed, he definitely would have bristled. As Chat Noir he liked his look. It was supposed to be messy, but to describe it as mangy, Adrien was offended. He supposed that he was not looking like his charming self by the time Marinette saw him, and breaking down on her balcony did not help that image, but it wasn’t his fault he had looked so rough. He would like to see how Marinette looked after almost dying and then running around Paris well into the night.

“He was probably busy doing hero work! Sometimes that messes up your look!” 

Marinette chuckled. Adrien had no idea how much she was aware of that statement. Longer akuma battles always left both heroes looking disheveled. Although Chat had not been fighting an akuma, he had been vaulting around the city. Not the most steady way of travel. 

“I invited him inside because it was so cold, and I noticed…” 

The pigtailed girl bit her lip, uneasy. She didn’t want to insult Adrien’s wings again. 

The blond blinked at her, waiting patiently for her to continue. He knew how the story went, but he was still confused as to why Marinette was bringing it up. Rotating his ring around in his hands, he watched the girl in front of him. She kept glancing at the trashcan next to her desk. Adrien looked closer at it, but it appeared to be a normal trash can. Was he missing something?

“He let me groom his wings…” Marinette watched Adrien's reaction carefully. 

The teen spoke quietly, “He must trust you.” 

The statement caused a blush to bloom over the blue haired girl’s cheeks. Adrien trusted her. Marinette allowed herself to feel the warm love she had for the boy. For just a moment, she allowed herself to feel the feelings she had pushed down to make room for their friendship. But all too soon, she tucked them away. There was no room for them right now. 

Marinette stood and made her way over to her trash can. She had swept the feathers into the bin, not having any use for the damaged appendages. She reached one hand inside and removed on. The flight feather was long but the veins were clumped unattractively. Smoothing it out the best she could, she handed it to Adrien. 

“That’s pretty damaged,” his voice took on a dark tone. 

Marinette furrowed her brow. They may be damaged but she didn’t like the way Adrien had spit the word. Without really processing what she was about to admit, Marinette spoke, “Beautiful though.” 

This time it was Adrien who blushed. He gently laid the feather on the floor, moving his palms together, long fingers quickly finding his ring. The sincerity that radiated in Marinette’s voice threatened to bring tears to his eyes. Biting his tongue, he kept the ‘thank you’ from spilling out of him. Over the years Adrien had heard a lot of words used to describe his wings, however, no one had ever called them beautiful. 

“I found this downstairs...” Marinette reached into her pocket, pulling out the much smaller, but unmistakable feather. She laid it next to the one Adrien had placed onto the floor. The coloring matched perfectly. 

The boy in front of her paled. He had been so careful, so cautious. The itching of his wings seemed to spike, making Adrien squirm. Had that fallen out of his shirt today? 

“What a c-coincidence,” Adrien hated the way his voice wavered. 

Marinette looked down to the teen. His hands moved in circles, fingers twitching. She joined him on the floor, sitting across from him once again. Adrien’s eyes stayed fixed onto the floor, his shoulders tensing like he was bracing for impact. Once again, Marinette felt her heart break for the boy. He had been through so much. 

“It was in the hallway after you rushed to the bathroom. No one else saw it.” 

Adrien remained silent. Moving slowly, Marinette reached her hand out towards the blond. She wanted to let him know that everything was going to be okay. As her hand brushed his, the fingers that had been spinning his ring—his miraculous—stopped. To her surprise, he didn’t flinch away. 

“I know you’re Chat Noir.” 

The limp hand she had been holding sprung to life. Adrien latched onto Marinette like a lifeline. 

“You can’t tell anyone. If anyone found out you knew my identity you could be in serious danger, and possibly be at risk of akumatization. My father would take my miraculous and imprison me if he found out I was sneaking out as a hero. If I somehow wasn’t forced to stop being Chat Noir by him, then Ladybug would take my Miraculous for sure. She is super serious about keeping our identities a secret and I already messed up really bad with the last akuma, please don’t tell. I would be nothing without Chat Noir please you can’t tell anyone…” 

Adrien gasped for breath. He was vaguely aware of his shaking hands being clasped by Marinette. 

“Adrien,” She spoke softly, “I won’t tell anyone. I promise. Please, just breathe.” 

He squeezed Marinette’s hands, taking a shuddering breath. The blond shook his head, already messy hair becoming wild with the violence of it. Adrien focused on Marinette, green eyes piercing though her blue. He had to make her understand. She had to realize the danger that knowing his identity put her in, and the danger that put him in. Chat Noir was used to danger, Marinette was not. 

“No one can know.” 

“I understand.”

Adrien’s words felt like a slap to the face. Did he really think that she would take away his Miraculous? Marinette could not imagine having someone else take over the position as Chat Noir. She would sooner give up her own Miraculous than take his. They were an unstoppable duo, and one mistake would not change their dynamic. Further, did he really think that he was nothing without Chat Noir? A deep frown stretched across Marinette’s face. 

“Are you mad at me?” 

Adrien’s voice drew Marinette out of her thoughts, “What? No! Of course I’m not mad!” 

The blond pulled his hands away from hers. He immediately missed the comforting warmth they provided, but Marinette did not look happy. Her gaze was furrowed, and her lips were downturned. Although she was much more pleasant than his father, Adrien recognized the expression. 

“You’re frowning. You’re upset with me?” 

The blue eyed girl hesitated, making Adrien’s stomach drop. The silence seemed to stretch forever. 

“I understand why you didn’t tell us you were Chat Noir, but why not tell us about your wings? We could have helped you, or supported you.” 

Now it was Adrien’s turn to frown. It had been drilled into him since he could remember about the importance of keeping his wings a secret. Even now, knowing that Marinette knew about his wings, it still filled him with a spike of unease. Logically, he knew she would never use the information against him, none of his friends would. Yet, all he could hear was his father’s voice in his head. If Gabriel found out that Adrien had spilled the beans, that would be the end of his already limited freedom. The company would be scorned and Gabriel would spiral. To see his father return to the dark place that had consumed him when his mother had died was something Adrien never wanted to experience again. Gabriel still was not the same man he had been before Emilie got sick, but things were better. The last thing Adrien wanted to do was disturb the precarious balance his home found itself in. He refused to go back to that time. 

“It only would have caused you and everyone else pain.” 

Marinette stood, passion alighting in her eyes, “But this is hurting you! We care about you Adrien. I care about you!” 

She began pacing the room, talking with her hands. Adrien watched, resigned. Marinette didn’t understand. He had to choose the fights he had with his father carefully. This was one of those things that would just end in more pain. 

He was flattered that she seemed to care about him so much, but this was not the first time he had this argument. Plagg had pushed a similar agenda when they had first been paired together. The cat kwami had urged him to tell his friends so he could spend less time inside his binder. Adrien hadn’t dared defy his father so blatantly. 

Now, he was willing to defy, but not for this. The company was the only thing keeping Adrien connected to his father. If Adrien jeopardized it, he would lose the only parent he had left. 

“I couldn’t.” Adrien clipped. 

Marinette stopped pacing, turning to the boy with a new look in her eyes: understanding. 

“Your father…” 

Pressing his lips into a firm line Adrien looked away. The relationship he shared with the man was so complicated. Nino had threatened to punch Gabriel on multiple occasions due to stories that Adrien hadn’t even considered to be that controversial, all things considered. He didn’t expect Marinette to have a much different perspective. 

“It’s not like he is physically forcing me to keep it a secret. I’m choosing to, for the company.” 

“Yeah, and it is just a coincidence that your choice coincides with what Gabriel wants you to do,” The sarcasm dripped off of Marinette’s voice like honey. 

Adrien felt himself bristle for the second time that day. He stood, facing Marinette head on, “He is not the only one with a lot riding on the success of the brand.” 

The pigtailed girl frowned, but it didn’t hold the same harshness of before. She searched his eyes. Adrien looked anywhere but back at her, suddenly uncomfortable under her gaze. 

“Adrien, You deserve so much more than what your father tells you,” Marinette took a step towards the boy. He still wouldn't meet her eyes. Undeterred, she soldiered on, 

“And I would know because I’m Lad—”

The blond suddenly pulled away, stepping closer to her desk with a surprised outburst. 

“Holy shit, tell me that clock is fast.” 

Marinette glanced to her desk, the small clocked read ten thirty. The sun had set a while ago. It was fairly late. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s correct,” the girl’s brow furrowed. Why was he suddenly so upset about the time?

“Plagg!” Adrien called frantically. He patted down his pockets, searching for the tiny god. The black cat phased into the room, Marinette assumed he had been talking with Tikki, but there was no way for Adrien to know that. Plagg waved at Marinette before turning to his chosen. 

Adrien looked between Plagg and Marinette, understanding the furrow of her brow meant confusion. He rushed to explain himself. 

“I am so sorry but if Nathalie checks on me and finds out that I’m not in my room…” Adrien trailed off. He shifted from foot to foot, conflicted hesitation spreading across his features. Adrien was clearly uncomfortable about interrupting Marinette, but he had to get home. Missing dinner would not be uncommon for the boy. When he didn’t come downstairs, Nathalie had someone bring it up to his room. However, if someone came to check on him and realized that the food was uneaten and Adrien was missing, panic would ensue. 

The girl watched as Adrien shifted uncomfortably. In a matter of seconds he had gone from scared about his identity to being unable to stand still. Realization spread across Marinette’s features as the information clicked together in her head. 

Adrien had snuck out. 

“Oh,” Marinette’s confession died on her lips. She couldn't risk him not being able to escape. She needed him. Ladybug needed him. 

“Please, go ahead. I get it.” 

Adrien flashed her a smile. It was very much a Chat Noir smile. Marinette felt the warm feelings she had pushed down earlier float to the surface, stronger than before. Waging a silent war with herself, she watched him climb up to her balcony. 

"Wait!" 

The blond turned back to Marinette. The cold winter breeze had picked up and buffeted his locks. She supposed she looked similar, hair blowing in the wind, face slightly flushed, but her focus was on Adrien. Moving quickly as not to stay in the cold for too long, she embraced the teen. He stiffened at first, unsure of how to react. After a beat of stillness, Adrien raised his arms to hug Marinette back. His heart beat loudly in his chest, the boy was sure she would be able to hear it. He blushed.

Marinette was so warm. He settled his chin atop her head, breathing in her comforting sent. Vanilla flooded his senses, making him press her tighter against him. Holding her against his chest felt so familiar, so right, but he couldn't place where he had done it before. All too soon, Marinette pulled away. 

"Please be careful." 

The boy in front of her nodded, "Anything for you, Princess." 

Taking her hand in his, he raised it to his lips, planting a small kiss among her knuckles. 

“Plagg! Claws Out!” 

As the cat hero raised his baton, Marinette stayed frozen to her spot. She had never seen Chat Noir do that to anyone but Ladybug, and her heart beat wildly. Now that she knew Adrien and Cat Noir were the same person, the lines between friend, partner, or something more had become blurry; however, she couldn't in good conscience continue to blur those lines without telling him the truth. The pigtailed girl watched the cat hero vault into the night, his previously bound wings spreading out behind him, a testament to the freedom he was experiencing. Eventually his black suit blended into the Parisian night, rendering him invisible. 

She would tell him. She had too, just, not today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for teasing that Ladybug reveal but I promise it's coming !!
> 
> There is some hella foreshadowing in this chapter, BUT I refuse to spoil anything. If you want to take guesses as to what it might be I will not stop you though, hehe.
> 
> I finally finished revising the story board for this fic, and I am really excited to write the rest of this plot. The support has been incredible and I cannot thank you all enough. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! As always, share if you enjoyed :D 
> 
> xoxo   
> Creative 
> 
> find me on Instagram: @creatibug


	9. Catalyst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya updates the Ladyblog to address the recent footage of Chat Noir. After seeing the update, Adrien is inspired to become a part of the movement. This excitement is short lived, however, as Nathalie explains Gabriel's wishes for his son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning:  
> gaslighting

Plagg watched over Adrien as he slept. The gentle rise and fall of the teen’s chest threatened to lull the kwami to sleep, but Plagg resisted. He wanted to stay awake. 

He perched on Adrien’s back, snuggled between the giant feathery appendages that sprouted below the boy’s shoulder blades. The black feathers stuck out haphazardly, but the kwami didn’t mind. He was in no position to judge messy appearances. Plagg rolled over, gazing at Adrien’s wings in their freedom. Relaxed, they stretched across the bed, blanketing Adrien in a feather cocoon.

The boy shifted, wings twitching ever so slightly. A few feathers fell onto Adrien’s bed sheets, tainting their immaculate white. As the weak glow of dawn poked through the sky, the black feathers seemed to cling to the darkness. The kwami narrowed his eyes. Plagg knew that the illusion was just a trick of the light, but it made his fur stand on end. If anything should be clinging to the darkness it should be him—the kwami of destruction—not Adrien, who used it for the greater good. Plagg wasn’t a hero. 

Frowning, Plagg floated over to the feathers. He picked them up in his tiny paws, dropping them into a waste basket. The black cat hovered over the bin for a moment. Golden light continued to brighten the room, eventually ending the optic illusion that Plagg disliked. Adrien rolled onto his side, unconsciously blocking the light from hitting his face as best he could. His wings stretched across the mattress behind him, leaving more loose feathers in their wake. 

Serenity was not a thing Adrien often received. The boy, like most full time miraculous holders, had nightmares: an akuma gone wrong, or in Adrien’s case, losing Ladybug. This, coupled with the ever present back pain of his civilian life, made for sleepless nights. Plagg pushed the too fresh memory of waking up to his chosen’s muffled sobs into the back of his mind. They were lucky most nights it was not quite that intense.

The kwami floated up to the bed, sighing to himself as he settled on Adrien’s pillow. The boy would be woken up soon. Plagg had turned off Adrien’s alarm after he had retransformed. The initial disappointment and surprise from Adrien when he eventually awoke to Nathalie barging into his room would be well worth the extra hours of sleep. The kid needed it. 

If he was being honest, Plagg was surprised Adrien had managed to go on for this long. Between the pressure his father put on him, hiding a secret from those he cared about, and spending already scarce free time saving Paris from an evil villain, Adrien was stretched thin. Plagg had predicted that the mounting stress would eventually begin to break the hero, and the get-together at Marinette’s house only strengthened that theory. 

It wasn’t that Plagg didn’t believe in Adrien. Quite the opposite was true. Plagg new Adrien was capable of incredible things, after all, not everyone could handle the power of destruction. Wayward black cats were much more common than wayward ladybugs. Further, the fact that the boy had gone on for so long was a testament of his strength. 

The albeit accidental identity reveal to Marinette had been a blessing. Adrien needed someone in his corner. Technically, Marinette was already in his corner as Ladybug, but now that the girl knew his identity, it made things less complicated. Although they had yet to talk about it together, Plagg was sure Adrien would benefit from having someone to share the burden of his secret.

As the light from the window continued to cast Adrien’s room in shades of gold, Plagg settled into the fluffy pillow. The night had passed without incident. The kwami could count on his paws how many nights they spent like this. It was far too few for the growing teen. Sighing, Plagg closed his eyes, listening to the even rise and fall of Adrien’s breathing. Day never ceased to make things seem better. Maybe, Plagg could even get some sleep before Adrien was forced to jump through hoops by his father. Just as the kwami got comfortable, a chime went off. 

Plagg’s ear twitched, eyes remaining closed as he felt Adrien stir next to him. His body jerked awake, but quickly settled once realizing there was no immediate threat. The teen yawned and stretched, being mindful not to jostle Plagg. The kwami suppressed a purr at Adrien’s thoughtfulness, instead choosing to uphold the charade of sleep. If Adrien knew the black cat had stayed up all night to watch over the boy, he would not be happy. 

Plagg risked a peek through slitted eyes as Adrien got out of bed. The boy stood, wincing as his wings adjusted to the new position. He stretched them out gingerly, gritting his teeth as he pushed them open. The kwami closed his eyes again, both wanting to give Adrien privacy and avoiding seeing him in pain. Plagg hated it. 

After Adrien finished with his wings, he shuffled over to his computer. Squinting at the screen, he read the notification that triggered the chime. The boy’s groggy expression came to a terse end. It was an update from the Ladyblog. He moved the mouse to click the link, hoping silently that it wasn't another akuma. 

It wasn’t, however Adrien’s relief was short lived. 

Alya’s newest upload to the Ladyblog, a video entitled So You Watched Last Night’s News, stared back at him. The thumbnail broadcasted a collage of a tired looking Alya and a smiling photo of Chat Noir. The description was a simple plea to watch. The blond felt a pit settle in his stomach. He almost took back his wish for the notification not to be an akuma, at least it would be more predictable than this. 

Chat Noir was a hero. He fought akumas and stopped crime on patrols. Yet, one video had him second guessing everything. Logically, he knew Alya would not portray Chat Noir in the same way the news had, however he was still uneasy. She had been the one to sell the footage to the station in the first place. 

Adrien’s hand hovered over the mouse, unsure if he wanted to click play. 

Hesitantly he called out to Plagg. 

“What,” The kwami grouched. 

Adrien’s eyes darted to the floor and stayed there. He withdrew his hand from the desk and began spinning his ring. Plagg immediately regretted using such an abrasive tone. Silently, he wondered how Adrien missed out on so much sleep and still managed to play his part of the perfect Agreste son. Plagg would have definitely failed. In the black cat’s defense, he had just closed his eyes, but he didn’t want to use that excuse on Adrien. Plagg didn’t want the boy to feel like he was a burden, and if he knew Plagg was losing sleep over him, he would only blame himself. Adrien didn’t always make sense, but when it came to others helping him, he was predictable. 

“Sorry kid,” the black cat apologized, “I was dreaming about my sweet camembert.” 

The boy in front of the kwami seemed to relax at the statement. The corner of his mouth quirked up into a smile. 

“I think you mean stinky.” 

Plagg flattened his ears but couldn’t help a smile from spreading across his face, “How dare you stoop to such levels when talking about my love!” 

“You’re worse than me pining over Ladybug.” 

The kwami sighed happily, glad Adrien had relaxed. Sometimes the boy became so tight with stress the cat feared he would hurt himself. However, the kwami’s concern did not help much, between binding his wings and protecting Ladybug, Adrien got hurt plenty. While Plagg knew that whatever waited on that screen was bound to be pressing, he felt obligated to remind Adrien to relax and have a little fun. 

“Anyway, you summoned me?” 

The blond rolled his eyes at Plagg, muttering something about the kwami being over dramatic, but the teen’s smile betrayed how he really felt. Adrien liked Plagg’s silly antics. The kwami ignored the jab, instead flitting over to Adrien’s shoulder so he could see the screen. 

Tuning back to the desktop caused Adrien’s smile to disappear. Plagg frowned, more from his chosen’s return to serious mode than the video that was displayed. 

“I don’t know what to do.” 

Plagg snorted, “You haven’t even watched the video yet, why are you so worried?”

Green eyes darkening, Adrien didn’t answer. The blond was scarily quiet as he reached forward to the mouse, playing the video. Together the pair watched Alya’s familiar graphic spring onto the screen. She had commissioned one of her favorite artists to make the title slide, and she used it at every opportunity. Once the short animation finished, Alya’s face appeared. 

“I am disappointed.”

The video was clearly shot the previous night. Although she had cleaned herself up and changed into more professional clothes, it was evident she had been crying, and the lack of sunlight coming through the windows gave the viewers a key to the time. The girl corroborated Adrien’s theory in her next statement. 

“Instead of sleeping, which I should be doing at this hour, I am making a video about the disgusting and obvious bias that you witnessed tonight… wait no… technically it was yesterday because it’s two am BUT I DIGRESS.” 

Adrien snorted, glad that Alya still managed to sneak in some humor. 

“I also want to clarify why I chose to release that footage of Chat Noir to the news, and reveal the lies I was fed so I would do so.” 

There was a moment of silence. Alya seemed to be staring into his soul though the screen. It was unnerving. 

“By the time this news,” Alya scoffed at the word, as if calling it news was a joke, “went on air, it was already public knowledge that Chat Noir appeared to have fallen off the Eiffel Tower. Those of you who watched my live stream of the event, got to see it in real time. Even before the fall, there has been some speculation about our hero’s wings, although this has mostly been within the winged community, not mainstream news.” 

Adrien paled. He had no idea the state of his wings had been a topic of discussion. Adrien had thought he had done a good job diverting suspicions, but he guessed that had been futile. Plagg touched the boy’s cheek gently, hoping to reassure his holder. The teen shot Plagg a small smile, turning back to the video with a deep breath. 

“In selling my footage, I meant no malice towards Chat Noir, nor the winged rights movement. Clearly, I have a personal investment in the outcome of the recent protests, and I did not make the decision to sell my footage lightly.” 

Alya sighed, she looked exhausted. Shifting her wings behind her, she turned back to the camera. 

“The news station reached out to me under the false pretense of unbiased reporting, and persuaded me they wanted to use my footage only to shed full light on the events of the akuma attack. They mentioned nothing about using the footage to make comments about winged people or Chat Noir as a hero. I recognize it was naïve of me to believe them, especially based on how various platforms have taken to reporting the anti-wingbinder protests, and winged people in general, yet I still chose to sell,” Alya’s voice became dejected. 

“I was hopeful that with their claims of unbiased reporting, the media was finally ready to spin a different, more accurate, narrative of the winged rights movement, or at least bring attention to the dangers of wing binding or wing disabilities. Clearly, I was wrong. I should have seen through this fallacy, and I apologize for any discomfort or anxiety the video and surrounding comments may have caused. It was not my intention for my footage to be used in this manner.” 

In the video, Alya’s feathers seemed to bristle. While the girl had no issue looking into the camera previously, now she seemed to be having trouble. This only lasted for a moment however, as the video soon jumped to another segment of her speaking. 

Alya was not one for letting her videos go unedited. She was all too aware of how people’s attention spans were shrinking; there was no time for heartfelt pauses. 

“What bothers me the most, however, is how quickly everyone turned against our hero, and I’m not just talking about the bigots who made their opinions clear from the start.” 

The video switched to a screen recording from Alya’s computer. Her mouse scrolled through various chat rooms on her Ladyblog website while her voice continued. She was scrolling too quickly for Adrien to read the messages fully, but after catching a few slurs, he got the gist. 

“I’m talking about the winged people attacking Chat Noir for not coming forward about his own struggles living as a winged person! I’m talking about the people sending me death threats for doing what I thought could be an opportunity to shed light wing damage or disability!”

The screen switched back to Alya, her eyes were ablaze with passion. 

“We are supposed to be lifting each other up! We know non-winged people put us down enough as is. Why are we turning against each other so easily? We deserve better! Chat Noir deserved better!” 

She sighed, clearly exasperated. 

“Behind that mask, Chat Noir is a private citizen like anyone else. It is not required of him to share the struggles he may or may not experience as a winged civilian. He is allowed to be uncomfortable speaking out, just like many of you are,” Alya gestured to the camera as she spoke, “and there is nothing wrong with supporting from the sidelines.” 

“While Chat Noir might not be organizing and leading protests, he supports us in other ways! He protects us from harm, and serves as an inspiration for winged people everywhere!” 

Adrien’s breath caught in his throat. His friend thought he was an inspiration. The boy quickly scrolled down to the comments, letting the audio continue as he looked. 

“He has proven that winged people can be just as efficient and reliable as any non-winged person. Even when people insult him for who he is, he does not let it bring him down. Chat Noir stays polite and chivalrous to all Parisians, no matter what disgusting calls get hurled his way. This video only reinforces this strength and inspiration.”

The commenters seemed to agree with Alya, making Adrien’s heart swell. He didn’t understand how, but Alya managed to spin his failure into a beacon of inspiration. Adrien was shocked, for the first time fully understanding why Marinette liked the girl so much. Alya was incredible. He vowed to do something to make it up to her. 

“So much of our identity as a group is derived from our wings. I mean, my family grooms each other's feathers when we are together. When we go to southern France to see my aunt, we fly together. I’ve been known to bend rules around the city by flying to capture akuma attacks. I love my wings, and I know I’m not the only one, or these protests wouldn’t be happening. Flight is such a large part of our identity, yet we tend to forget that not all of us can fly.” 

Adrien was having trouble following where the blogger was taking this point, but he trusted in Alya’s skills. She knew what she was doing. 

“Flight is hard. Anyone who has done it before knows that it can be incredibly draining, windy, cold, and occasionally wet. Yet, it’s exhilarating,” She paused, smiling wistfully before turning serious, “But I remind you, not all winged people have the luxury to experience it. Whether it be from unsafe binding practices, feather clipping, or disability, these members of our community often go without a voice.” 

Alya stared at the camera, emphasizing her next point. 

“Chat Noir has given them a voice.”

Adrien blanched, earning him a sharp hush from Plagg. The kwami floated closer to the screen, ears alert and forward. The boy might have been more offended by the shushing if he hadn’t seen how enthralled Plagg was with the video. 

“This footage may broadcast him falling, and scared out of his mind—I know I would've been terrified if I fell off the Eiffel Tower—but he and Ladybug still managed to save the day. Not only has Chat Noir proved that winged people can be heroes, he proved that you don’t need to fly in order to do it.” 

The girl took a deep breath, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. This time, she didn’t edit the silence out. It stretched, punctuated by shaky breaths, making the words she had just spoken heavier. 

“The issue of winged rights goes further than just the banning of binder requirements in workplaces. It’s deeper than the flight restrictions, which unfortunately have now been passed in several cities. It's a complex and multifaceted issue that cannot be solved with simple legislation. I can assure you that people will be left out, and loopholes will be exploited. If the reaction to Chat Noir’s fall isn’t evidence enough, we can turn our attention to history. Don’t get me wrong, legislation is a great start, but it won’t magically fix everything. The truth is, it’s about all of us: winged, and non-winged alike. So, with this unity in mind, I want to start a new kind of protest.”

Adrien stared at the screen eyes wide. 

“Tomorrow—I mean today…” 

The brunette looked at her clock on her wall, squinting to read it. She had taken off her glasses to avoid catching the glare of her lights while filming, and now she could barely read the LED numbers. Sighing, Alya turned back to the camera. 

“I can’t read what time it is but I know there is a protest today. On a side note, thank you to everyone who RSVPed, I am really excited to meet some of you guys. Myself and the other organizers worked really hard to put together a great lineup of speakers. Back to my point though…” 

Alya grinned, “I want you to bring your pride to this protest. I mean winged pride, not gay pride, but totally bring your rainbows if you want. The point is that all are welcome.” 

Adrien felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. 

“We need to show everyone that we stand together, especially after how quickly we shattered apart. Use this protest not only to advocate for legislation, but to connect and form a united front. We are a community, and one simple video will not make us back down from our goal. Come with your wings out! Don’t be afraid to show who you are. Our protests will not stop because backwards thinkers say that Chat Noir is incapable or that people like him are inferior,” Alya smirked, “I’d like to see them talk after he protects them from yet another akuma.” 

Although it was clear she was getting tired, her passion never left her eyes. It made Adrien feel inspired. 

“It’s time to act. We may not be able to fight supervillains, but we can stand up for each other. Don’t let your fear stop you, because it sure doesn’t stop Chat Noir. Use this to become an everyday hero.” 

The screen went dark. A link too RSVP to today’s protest slowly appeared on the black, signaling the end of the video. Adrien stared at it, scarcely blinking. Icons at the bottom of the screen popped up, showing the video had already been shared with over one hundred thousand people. The number kept growing. Before he had time to really process what he had just watched, there was a knock at his door. 

“Adrien?”

It was Nathalie. 

Plagg darted underneath the desk just as the assistant came into the room. Her worried expression was quickly schooled into one of neutrality after seeing the boy sat down at his desk. 

“You missed breakfast. I’ll have someone send it up to your room.” 

Now it was Adrien’s turn to squint at the clock. He stuttered out an apology, quickly putting together that Plagg must have turned the alarm off. Adrien shot a glare at the kwami as Nathalie glanced down at the tablet. Peeking out from his hiding spot with a devious smirk, Plagg just shrugged. 

“Your Father has cancelled your activities for today. Apparently the most recent protest has gotten so big they are blocking roads. He does not think it is safe.” 

Adrien’s eyes lit up. 

“He expects that you stay in your room and make up for the lost work. The Chinese work must be completed and put on my desk before lunch. It is also expected that you will be able to play Lullaby in a Storm all the way through with minimal mistakes by the day’s end. I will be back around dinner time to listen to your play though.” 

The boy’s face quickly fell. Nathalie paused, seeming to acknowledge Adrien’s emotions for the first time. 

“Is there a problem?” 

“I-I just,” Adrien’s hands moved together before quickly realizing who he was in front of. Forcing them back down to his sides, he looked up at Nathalie. His green eyes looked dull and hopeless, an expression no young teen should ever wear. For a moment her resolve faltered, she allowed herself to feel for the boy in front of her. However, the moment was short lived. She had to remain objective and professional, it was not her place to intervene. 

“Go on,” she prompted. The cool tone of her voice almost fooled her into believing that she was uninvolved, almost. She watched Adrien struggle to find the words he wanted. When Emilie hired her for this assistant job, she was made aware of Adrien’s differences, as they had been called. The boy was seven and had only just started speaking. Back then, he had been so happy, so full of life, but a lot had changed since then.

He swallowed, “I want to go to the protest.” 

Nathalie’s eyebrows rose, her perfect composure dropping once again. On autopilot she said, 

“You’ll have to ask your father.”

Without thinking Adrien sassed, “Sure, let me just make an appointment.” 

Under the table, Plagg burst with pride. Adrien had just used sarcasm correctly and Plagg was taking full credit. Finally, something he had tried to teach the boy had rubbed off. The kwami was thrilled. 

Nathalie seemed equally surprised by this development, and stared at the boy for a few moments. Adrien fumed in the desk chair, not making eye contact with the assistant across from him. She opened her mouth to speak but quickly found herself at a loss for words. Adrien had pushed back against his controlling father before, but never with quite this much attitude. 

Adrien, oblivious to his kwami’s pride and Nathalie’s surprise, seethed in his seat. Having hope that he would actually have a day to be a normal teenager only to have it crushed in the next sentence did not feel good. He was upset, but not surprised. 

“Would you like me to make one?” 

The boy sighed angrily, “No, it’s fine. I know what he will say anyway. If you could bring up my breakfast and my Chinese work that would be great.” 

Nathalie nodded, still unsure of how to proceed. She turned to leave the room but just as she was to the doorframe Adrien spoke quietly. 

“Does he even want me?”

The assistant stopped in her tracks. She turned back to the boy. What she was about to do was not in her job description, but what Gabriel didn’t know would not hurt him. 

“Of course he does. He loves you.” 

Adrien’s eyes widened, turbulent emotion shining in the green irises. 

“Then why does he keep pushing me away?” 

“He wants to protect you” 

“From what? Himself? From people like me?”

The boy’s already haphazard feathers bristled. 

Nathalie paled. This was dangerous territory. There was no way Adrien could have found out about his father’s side profession, right? Surely he would be more direct about his confrontation. Knowing that Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth was not information Nathalie planned to divulge anytime soon, her connection with the man depended on it. Instead, she diverted. 

“That’s not what he meant at all! You must have misunderstood what your father was trying to say.” 

“That winged people and their supporters are dangerous?” 

“Now you’re just making things up to fit what you thought you heard. Adrien I thought you were raised above all of this.” 

Adrien floundered in front of the assistant. It wasn’t impossible he had misunderstood his father. It wouldn’t have been the first time. Before he could give Nathalie’s words further thought she continued speaking. 

“Monsieur Agreste has done everything in his power to insure a comfortable and opportunistic upbringing for you. Many other children dream of having a life like yours. He may not have a lot of spare time, but you should be grateful for everything he has given you. Why do you fight against it?” 

Adrien deflated. He couldn’t argue with that. While he wasn’t exactly happy with the life he was living, he was very fortunate to be living it. Patrolling the streets as Chat Noir had made Adrien painfully aware of his privilege. His father had never hurt him, at least physically. The man always provided him with everything he could possibly need to be successful: extra lessons so he could be at the top of his class, money to pay for university, teaching in language, etiquette, and negotiation so he could eventually run the Agreste Brand. While Gabriel had been physically absent, he had attempted to remedy the best he could. Just by glancing around the teen’s room, anyone could see that. So why was Adrien still craving more? 

Nathalie continued, quieter now, “I know things have been different since your mother’s passing, but he is just making sure you have a good life… He doesn’t want to lose you too.”

A pit of guilt formed in his stomach

“You’re right. He just wants to protect me.” 

The two sat in tense silence. Adrien swore that he could feel the pressure in the room on his chest. It swelled up, building between his eyes, threatening to drop tears down his face. He averted his eyes, Nathalie’s words circling his mind like sharks. The assistant was right, his father did love him. He just wanted to keep his son’s life as simple as possible. Doing that meant Adrien couldn't get political, or wear his wings unbound. This was for the best. He shouldn't be so ungrateful. 

“I’m—I’m,” the blonde stammered, clenching his hands by his sides to keep them from flying together, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay Adrien,” Nathalie gave a terse smile, “I know you are a good kid.” 

With a final nod the assistant left the room. 

The blonde let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. A shiver ran through his body as he was finally able to fidget again. It was exhausting, trying to appease everyone. Plagg floated out from under the desk, scowling. 

“I swear I’m gonna cataclysm someone if they keep treating you like that.”   
Adrien’s brows pulled together, causing worried wrinkles to appear on his face, “What do you mean? If anyone should be cataclysmed it is me.” 

The kwami’s mouth dropped open. The teen seemed to only get more confused based on the facial expression. 

“Did you hear what you just said?” Plagg exclaimed in disbelief. 

Adrien opened his mouth to answer, but any attempt of a reply was thwarted by Plagg’s paws slapping gently over his mouth. 

“Rhetorical question kid.” 

“Oh.” Adrien blushed. 

The black cat flew backwards, dropping his proportionately large head into his paws. Adrien didn’t even realize what was wrong with his statement. It was as if he believed what Nathalie had said. 

Plagg’s eyes widened. Adrien believed what Nathalie had said. 

“Kid, that was textbook manipulation.” 

Adrien only seemed to get more confused, “How is reassuring me that my father actually cares manipulative?” 

The kwami flew closer to Adrien gesturing with his paws as he spoke, “First, she denied what you had perceived. She said that you were wrong and that you were making it up so you had a reason to be upset over it.” 

The blond frowned. 

“Then she talked about how much Gabriel,” Plagg practically spit the name, “has done for you but completely ignored the fact that he has kept you in a cage when it is clear that you are happy elsewhere. He treats you like an employee, and expects you to do everything perfectly. All while threatening you about the weight of your actions and the responsibility you carry.” 

Plagg was livid now. 

“Don’t even get me started about how she used your mother as an excuse. As if that makes everything okay. She also insulted you for being sensitive and wanting affection, then turned around at the end and said you were a good kid! The entire point of that intervention was to make you feel guilty!” 

The kwami knew his holder hated when he yelled about Adrien’s father, but this had to be said. Plagg couldn’t watch Adrien beat himself up, especially when the things Nathalie had said were so wrong. Adrien was not ungrateful, or wrong in his understanding. He was smart, and thoughtful, and never took what he had for granted. Sometimes Plagg just wanted to shake that information through the boy’s head. 

Adrien remained silent, the only indication that he had listened was the rapid spinning of the ring around his finger. The already racing thoughts in his mind seemed to pick up speed with the information Plagg presented. 

“I don’t understand… Why would Nathalie want me to feel guilty?” 

Pity filled the black cat’s eyes but the emotion was lost to Adrien. The boy felt like he was grasping at straws, knowing Plagg was trying to spell something out for him, but being unable to put it together. It was frustrating. 

The blonde’s wings ruffled behind him. Deep down, he knew the kwami was just trying to protect him, but right now Plagg was just making him upset. Adrien stood up from his desk chair, hands moving rapidly. The boy began to pace, reflecting on what Plagg had told him.

It didn’t make sense. Nathalie was reassuring him, not putting him down. Sure, he did feel guilty, but that feeling made sense. He knew he had been an ungrateful son. That was his own fault, not the assistants. 

Eyes falling back to the kwami that floated in front of him Adrien snapped,

“Can you please just say what you mean?” 

“They want to keep you in their control.” 

“They aren’t controlling me! They just want what is best for me. It’s my choice to—”

Adrien choked on his words. The strangled sound that caught in the back of his throat made Plagg wince. The kwami watched as the boy shut his eyes, willing away the tightness that had snuck up on him. Flying over to his chosen, Plagg rested on Adrien’s shoulder, purring gently. 

The boy took a shaky breath. Plagg took the opportunity to speak, soft purrs warping the sound of his voice. 

“Kid… There comes a point in growing up where only you can know what is best for you. At the end of the day, it’s not Gabriel or Nathalie’s life, it’s yours. It doesn’t make you a bad person or a bad son for sticking up for your wants and needs.” 

Adrien took a deep breath, seeming to consider Plagg’s words. Before he could reply there was a knock at the door. Nathalie had returned. She came in a moment later, the tablet she usually carried was exchanged for a plate of food and a stack of papers. As the smell of warm croissants hit his nose Adrien felt his mouth water. He vaguely remembered the dinner he had snarfed down last night. He had probably eaten half of it in the middle of his detransformation. 

Plagg had shot off under the desk again, this time not risking peaking out as Nathalie set the items down on top of it. He watched as her feet walked away, stopping in front of Adrien. From what the kwami saw, it appeared that she reached out to the boy, placing her hand on his shoulder, or maybe cupping his cheek, from his hiding spot he couldn't be sure. It made the black cat’s stomach curdle. Not even having his sweet camembert would make this moment bearable. He knew that Nathalie was not physically hurting Adrien, especially now, Plagg floated a little lower, confirming that Nathalie was indeed cupping Adrien’s cheek in her hand. The movement was so unlike her, almost motherly. Plagg swiveled his cat ears to catch what the assistant was saying. 

“Thank you for being so understanding. I know it might not be the most ideal situation but you have handled it so well. I know your mother would be proud of how far you have come.” 

Fury sparked in Plagg’s eyes. Emilie had every reason to be proud of Adrien but not for the reason Nathalie was peddling. The kwami felt the cool pit of destruction that resided within him begin to boil. He had lived for too long, seen too many holders being hurt, to be worried about losing control over that power, but seeing Adrien being twisted closer and closer to his breaking point made him want to lose control. Maybe the burning down of the Agreste brand was coming sooner than anyone thought. 

Adrien nodded, pulling away slightly from the woman. Her hand dropped back down to her side, returning to cold and professional. It was like a switch was flipped. Plagg’s words rung in his mind. She only cares for you when you are doing what they want.

“Nathalie?”

“Yes, Adrien?” 

“I don’t want to do the Chinese work. I’m already ahead in all of my classes, and my tutor has said numerous times how quickly I can pick up the language.” 

Nathalie remained cold, “That is your choice, but your father won’t be very happy.” 

Adrien held strong but couldn’t help the twinge of fear he felt in his gut. He looked down at the floor as the assistant continued. 

“I’ll have to interrupt his schedule to inform him of your uncooperative attitude. It would be a shame if he had to discipline you.” 

Plagg swallowed a threatening hiss. Adrien remained silent. 

Nathalie raised an eyebrow, “Don’t you agree, Adrien?” 

The boy mimicked Plagg’s words from before, “It’s my life. I can make my own choices.” 

“You’ll have to deal with those consequences then,” Nathalie clipped, “you are to stay in your room whether you chose to do the work or not. I can forget this little skirmish if it is completed at the end of the day, otherwise I will be forced to notify your father.” 

“You can take the work with you as you leave, then,” Adrien forced out, “I know what I want.”

He hid his hands behind his back, clasping them lightly to keep them from shaking. Thankfully the assistant didn’t seem to notice. Nathalie looked him up and down, eyes cold and calculating. Her gaze was guarded, regarding the boy in front of her with suspicion. The black wings on his back twitched, causing another feather to fall out. He swallowed, forcing his eyes back up to hers. 

The assistant turned to leave, but not without getting the last word, “Let me know when you change your mind. I know you’ll make the right choice.” 

As the assistant closed the door, Adrien collapsed on his previously occupied desk chair. He was shocked with himself. Had he really just stood up against something his father asked of him? 

“He is going to kill me,” Adrien deadpanned.

As he spoke, his kwami quickly emerged from under the desk. In a tiny ball of black, Plagg wrapped his tiny paws around Adrien’s cheek, purring loudly. He was so proud of Adrien for standing up for himself. Sure it was something small, but it was a start. 

“Not if I can help it,” The kwami released Adrien from the tiny embrace, “I’ll kick his ass.” 

“Sure you will,” a small smile pulled at the boy’s lips, “softie.” 

Plagg wasn’t even mad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I love Plagg with all of my heart? 
> 
> Thank you for reading!   
> As always, kudos, shares, and comments are very much appreciated! 
> 
> xoxo   
> \- Creative


	10. The Protest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After uploading her video the night before, Alya is exhausted but still ready to make a difference. On the way to the protest, she runs into Chat Noir who has seen her message. They talk, and Chat Noir decides it is time he stands up for the people he has sworn to protect.

Alya emerged from her favorite café without glancing up from her phone. With one hand she deftly swiped through her notifications, smirking to herself when she saw her hit count on the Ladyblog had reached record highs. Her video seemed to be working. 

It wasn’t just the Ladyblog either. The RSVP for the protest had exploded as well. Overnight the protest had turned into a sensation. News outlets everywhere—barring the one that has trashed Chat Noir—would be there to cover the event. Alya was proud. 

Already she had seen posts on her feed at the meeting place for the protest. Based on what social media projected and her friends had texted her, the set up was going well. Together, Alya and the other organizers had decided to hold it in the park nearby city hall. The location was both a safe distance away from the building, and strategic, in order to rally more people. Plus, since it was not in the street, vendors could set up stalls to sell merchandise related to the cause. Further, Alya had contacted the Parisians local voter’s club and they had agreed to set up a registration station for young voters. Needless to say, she was pumped. 

The girl took a break from staring at the screen in her hand and took a swig of her coffee. Alya was pretty sure this was her third one today, but she needed the caffeine. With the energetic buzz that currently thrummed through her system she didn’t even feel the cold breeze nipping at her nose.

Her phone buzzed. 

A smile spread across her face as she saw Marinette had texted her a picture of herself and Nino bundled up just outside the park. Their smiles seemed genuine, and it made Alya so happy that her friends supported her. The text was quickly followed by a flurry of question marks directed at the message Alya had sent the pigtailed girl earlier that morning. 

In her sleep deprived state, the brunette had reached the conclusion that Ladybug and Chat Noir’s must consume a ton of caffeine. She had sent Marinette a long winded paragraph about the theory around the time she had finished uploading the video—far too early for the other girl to be awake. Even though she was less delirious from lack of sleep now, she still stood by the words. The heroes were up most nights patrolling until long after the sun had set, their civilian identities must get tired from losing sleep. 

Alya texted back with one hand: ‘I stand by delirious Alya’s conclusion,’ adding an ‘XD’ emoji for good measure. 

Pocketing her phone, the blogger crossed the street, making her way towards the park. The sun peaked its way through the winter clouds, providing just enough warmth that it wouldn’t be uncomfortable to be outside all day. They had purposefully planned the protest to be during the hottest part of the day, albeit it was winter so it was not very hot, but that decision seemed to be paying off. 

She watched as a pair of winged girls crossed the street ahead of her. Each of them had one hand firmly wrapped around a sign while the other collapsed their partners. Their feathers were dyed rainbow colors, mimicking the pattern of a pride flag. Alya smiled to herself. The more she saw, the happier she became. She had been a part of making this possible. She had turned this protest into a safe space for education and advocacy. She hoped that the positive energy would stay. 

Shaking any negative thoughts away, Alya pulled her phone back out of the pocket, replying to some simple questions from Marinette as well as her fellow organizers. Promising she would be there soon, she once again slipped the device away. She knew it was dangerous to use her phone while walking through the streets of Paris. Even more so to it alone. Although she had yet to have a negative experience, her mother had been egging her to stop for weeks now. One too many stories of young winged girls getting abducted when they were not paying attention to their surroundings had rattled her.

As she continued to walk the few blocks to the park, a movement above her head caught her eye. Stopping, she glanced up to the roof of the building, bringing up one hand to shield her eyes from the winter sun. A familiar black belt-like tail peaked over the lip of the roof. 

Alya smiled, happy to see the hero out and about. The fact that he wasn’t actively chasing after a supervillain made her believe that he was just out for a patrol. The protest was, at least for now, untouched by Hawk Moth. Without much thought, she began continuing her walk to the protest. 

“Wait!” 

There was a distinct whooshing followed quickly by the clack of boots against the pavement. Alya turned just in time to see the cat hero storing his baton behind him. Her eyes flicked to his wings, not surprised when a loose feather floated gently to the ground. The hero kicked the stray feather aside with a self-conscious chuckle, tucking his black wings behind his back. 

“I’m sorry,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The brunette smiled politely, “It’s okay, you didn’t startle me.”

Chat Noir smiled back, dropping his hand down to his side. His tail moved to curl around his leg, the end flicking pensively against his ankles. For a moment, the brave hero looked lost. A cold gust of wind shot up the street, ruffling the boy’s tousled mess of blond. He closed his eyes. The cold washed over him, separating the inner conflict in his own head from what was happening in front of him. When he opened his eyes again, he was ready to be Chat Noir. 

“Mademoiselle Césaire,” he bowed with a flourish. 

“Please,” she snorted, grinning as he rose with a smile that perfectly balanced chaos and beauty. She swore if he wasn’t a superhero he would be a model. 

“Call me Alya. We’ve had too many meetings for you to keep calling Mademoiselle Césaire.” 

Chat smirked, “I do seem to recall seeing you at one or two akuma attacks.” 

“Only one or two, of course” Alya matched his smirk. “To willingly show up to more would be crazy.” 

“Absolutely.” 

Chat Noir allowed himself to relax a little. He may not be in his civilian form, but Alya was still his friend. She was still the same person he knew as Adrien. The boy sighed. Alya was her authentic self, no matter what was thrown her way. She knew who she was and what she stood for. It was refreshing, but not without a grain of salt. 

Adrien envied her. 

He wanted her ability to be herself. As Chat Noir, he had his first taste of what that might look like. The hero didn’t allow anyone to force him into acting a certain way, he was brave enough to fight back, and was strong enough to protect the ones he loved. Chat Noir didn’t let the little things get him down. Adrien couldn't do any of those things. Adrien was weak, and easily coerced. No matter how hard he tried to please the ones he loved, it was never enough. Sometimes, it was hard for Adrien to believe he was Chat Noir.

Rocking back on his heels, the cat hero smothered the jealousy that flickered in his chest. It wasn’t right. Alya was doing nothing wrong. There was a time and place for unpacking that emotional disequilibrium, and right now, in front of Alya was neither. Forcing a smile he shook off his thoughts. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

The blogger’s voice remained light and friendly but her eyes searched the hero. Something seemed off about him. Her journalistic instincts were foaming at the mouth, desperate for the thrill of chasing a scoop. 

As much as she would have loved to get right down into the story, she refrained. Alya had come a long way from when she first started writing blog posts about the superhero duo. She had learned the hard way that attempting to force a story out of someone was not the way to go. Honestly, she was surprised Ladybug had agreed to so many interviews with her, especially in the beginnings of her career. The first posts on the Ladyblog had been buried deep within the internet for a reason. 

“I wanted to thank you.” 

The bravado she had come to associate with Chat Noir was completely gone with the statement. His ears seemed to deflate, only emphasizing the sincerity of his message. 

“Thank me for what?” she blurted. 

“Your video… I watched it… You didn’t have to say all of those things.” 

Alya was too excited at the prospect of Chat Noir watching her blog to notice how the hero’s green eyes glanced longingly at her wings. The reddish brown feathers were folded with ease, their veins: smooth and immaculate. Dragging his gaze back to her hazel eyes, the hero continued. 

“Thank you for sticking up for me. I know, I’m a hero, and should be able to do it myself, but… you really helped make it seem less scary, and the way you spun the video was genius.” 

Alya winked but it did nothing to disguise the blush that painted her cheeks, “I didn’t have to spin anything. I was just reporting what I saw.” 

Chat Noir rubbed the back of his neck, shifting on his feet. 

“But they’re right” 

Alya raised her eyebrow, “Hmm?” 

Before the cat superhero processed what he was doing, he found his tail in his hands. The familiar weight helped him gather his thoughts. Those who had become angry at his lack of involvement with the protests had every right to be. He had been silent for so long, hoping that if he didn’t react to the bullies, they would eventually leave him alone. Obviously, that strategy had not worked. It seemed like tensions were only getting worse, and Chat Noir was pretending like it wasn’t happening. Citizens who he had promised to protect were watching him turn a blind eye to a struggle that he had experienced first hand. Their anger made sense. 

Enough was enough. Adrien was done pretending. 

“I need to be more involved.”

Alya’s lips parted into a surprised “o.” The boy in front of her surged on, words tumbling out faster. 

“It’s not right for me to pretend that this isn’t happening or that I can’t do something about it,” his pupils narrowed into slits, an unreadable emotion clouding his irises. Just as Alya attempted to decipher what it could mean, it vanished, replaced quickly with something much softer. 

“You’ve inspired me,” Adrien knew not to go into more detail than that, lest he accidentally divulge his secret identity, but the words rang true in their sincerity. 

Understanding dawned across Alya’s features. 

“Chat Noir, does this mean you’re coming to today’s protest?” 

The boy blushed, rubbing the back of his neck, “I was hoping I could walk with you?” 

“Of course!” Alya practically jumped with enthusiasm. Although she had been fortunate to interview him in the past, there was something nice about being able to talk off the record. Of course, a part of her would always be storing little bits of information for stories, but she knew better than to share everything she discovered. 

The hero smiled. The way his wings shuffled in excitement reminded Alya of a child. The brunette returned the expression, motioning for the hero to fall into step beside her. He did, eagerly collapsing his hands together. 

He was doing it. He was really doing it. Anticipation curled with the excitement in his stomach. He was finally going to meet all different kinds of people. For once in his life the wings on his back didn’t feel heavy. He shuffled them again, relishing the feeling of normalcy. 

Alya couldn't help but notice the hero’s feathers as they moved together. They were dull. The brunette squinted, making sure it wasn’t just a smudge of her glasses. Whereas healthy feathers had a slight luster to them, Chat Noir’s were unhealthily dull, like they weren’t getting enough nutrients. Alya frowned. Her hazel eyes traveled to the hero's frame, surprised at how small the boy looked. 

The boy arranged his wings once last time, accidentally brushing Alya’s feathers in the process. Both teens were knocked out of their thoughts. 

“Oh! Sorry!” Chat sidestepped, practically flinching. His wings snapped shut so quickly that a few feathers floated to the ground. The hero fidgeted with his ring, going from carefree and excited too nervous in a matter of seconds. 

His reaction struck Alya. It was odd.

Brushing feathers together or bumping wings with another winged person was considered a sign of friendship. Although Alya wouldn’t have personally instigated the gesture with the hero, it wasn’t uncomfortable. They were familiar with each other. They were friends, at least as much as a journalist and a hero could be.

However his apology didn’t make sense. It was almost like he hadn’t been taught wing interactions. Alya had been immersed in winged culture since she was a child, she assumed that every winged person knew these things. It was an unspoken, but understood language between winged people. The brunette frowned, thoughts aligning quickly. Did Chat Noir not have anyone to learn it from? 

She immediately regretted the frown after watching Chat Noir’s reaction. His ears flattened against his blonde hair. The hero seemed to brace himself for the worst. Unsure of how to react to her newly deduced information, she opened one of her wings. The impressive wingspan stretched across the space between them. Her healthy feathers seemed to glow in comparison to Chat Noir’s but the blogger pushed that thought away. She wasn’t here to judge. Gently, she brushed her wing against Chat’s folded feathers. The hero looked up at her wide-eyed. 

Alya smiled, “It’s okay. It means friendship.” 

The hero seemed to debate the information for a moment. Alya allowed her wing to remain outstretched, but drew it off of Chat Noir’s feathers. Tentatively he stretched his wing out, attempting to meet hers. He seemed to be having trouble moving just the singular appendage, eventually giving up and just moving both in unison. 

Chat Noir blushed, secretly hoping that she hadn’t noticed his struggle. He had never tried to move one wing at a time before. He found the isolated movement to be a lot more difficult that Alya made it seem. Most of the time, he kept both his wings still against his back, never needing the dexterity and strength that Alya most likely had achieved from flight. His ears flicked forward when the girl beside him chuckled. It wasn’t mean, rather it was happy. Chat Noir cocked his head. 

“Was that okay?” 

Alya pulled her wing back, adjusting them so they rested comfortably behind her. 

“Yeah! It was great,” Alya grinned, “I’m happy to be your friend.” 

Chat Noir looked surprised for a moment, but his expression changed into a grin soon after. They continued on the walk, only growing more excited as the park came into view. Soon, the cat hero could hear the chatter of protesters with his enhanced senses. Automatically his tail shot upwards, quivering in excitement. Alya shot him a grin, leading him into the park.  
“It’s really awesome you decided to come today.” 

Immediately people noticed their entrance. As heads turned to take in the newcomers, excited chatting was quickly replaced by whispers. Chat Noir resisted the instinct to flatten his ears against his head. Instead he waved to the crowd, following Alya into the mass of people.

“I’m not sure everyone feels the same,” The hero blushed, following Alya a little more closely. He didn’t want to become disoriented with so many people around. 

Alya ignored the people around them, shooting a supportive smile at Chat Noir. 

“Once they realize you’re here for the same reasons they are they’ll calm down,” Alya sighed adding, “sadly it is going to take more than my video to remind people that we are all on the same side.”

Chat Noir nodded, focusing on following Alya. Even as he moved through the group, people stared. He swallowed, he was used to being stared at in both his identities, but this was different. His tail stilled, the top bending into a hook. The staring wasn’t hostile, but it wasn’t exactly friendly. A few people sent him tight smiles, while others just seemed to be shocked he had come. Eventually the chatter picked back up, but the energy had changed. The cat hero wasn’t sure if it was his enhanced instincts that had picked up on it, or if he was being paranoid. Alya seemed unaffected, so maybe he was just imagining things. Trying to shake the feeling of unease he took in the people around him. 

The crowd was diverse. Even when Adrien had done diversity shoots to showcase his father’s clothing “versatility” as it was called, they were nothing compared to this. People of all shapes, sizes, and colors seemed to be there. Young and old interacted, purchasing buttons and stickers at a tent set up across the lawn. Some had brought their children: they weaved around at a run, only paying enough mind to the people around them to not crash. Chat’s eyes followed them with a smile, wings shuffling behind him. The more the hero looked the more impressed he was. This was quite the event. 

“Wow,” Chat Noir breathed, “this is amazing.” 

Alya was practically glowing with pride, “I know.” 

The brunette led him up to one of the vendor tables, suppressing a smirk when the people running the booth paled due to the hero behind her. She reached into her back pocket pulling out her wallet but as she moved to remove some money she was stopped by a gloved hand. Chat Noir pushed her hands away, stepping up to the table. 

“Hello,” He flashed his signature smile. Reaching into the small pockets on his suit he pulled out a few euro bills. Alya was genuinely surprised, and the vendors seemed to be as well. 

“M-Monsieur Chat Noir,” one of them managed to stutter. 

The hero waved away the formality with another smile, “Please, Chat Noir is fine.” 

“R-right,” The man blushed. His dark brown wings shuffled nervously behind him. His partner, a non-winged woman, stood, seeming to shake off her initial starstruck awe. 

“What can we do for you?” 

The hero glanced down at the array of items. T-Shirts were folded neatly across most of the table, but the thought of the harsh rub of the inexpensive fabric fibers made him shudder. While the designs on them were clearly hand made, he knew he wouldn’t be able to wear them. The fabric was wrong, there was no other way for Adrien to describe it. 

He swore he wasn’t being elitist, he just hated the feeling of coarse fabric. Even a few of his father’s designer pieces had made his skin crawl. Those photoshoots were always the hardest to get through. The teen had tried to explain the feeling to one of his co-workers but it had fallen on deaf ears. He had just been made fun of for being a weirdo. Gabriel had not been happy after receiving that news. 

Alya cleared her throat, bringing Chat Noir back to the present. He blinked, refocusing on the task at hand. Tearing his eyes away from the shirts his eyes fell on a bucket of assorted wristbands. They were brightly colored and sported slogans like: “ban binders,” and “we fly together.” 

“We’ll take some of those,” He glanced at Alya, “also whatever this talented lady would like.” 

The blogger snorted, rolling her eyes in a way that reminded him of Ladybug. 

“What a gentleman,” the teasing tone was lost to the boy, “Ladybug must be very lucky.” 

Face turning bright red, he listened to Alya talk with the pair of vendors. They recognized her from her video and offered her a shirt that broadcasted the phrase “Winged Pride,” which they explained was inspired by her. They told how they designed the shirts, something Adrien didn’t quite follow but it sounded difficult. Alya praised them heavily, even stripping off her jacket to try it on. Her wings bulged awkwardly underneath the fabric, to which she just laughed off. Maneuvering the shirt, she slowly pulled her wings through the pre-fitted slits, smiling as it slid over her feathers. 

“There!” she smiled, posing for the vendor, “What do you think, Chat Noir?”

“It looks great. We’ll take it.” 

The pair of venders beamed, appearing very happy that Alya was wearing the shirt that they had designed. Chat Noir began exchanging his money with the winged vendor, much to the vendor’s protest. The hero insisted, placing the money gently in the man’s hands. He knew it was more than what they had purchased, but Adrien didn’t need it. Besides, he had done his research before coming; half of what the protest made in profit went to Angel House, a charity that helped displaced and homeless winged people. It was going to a good cause. 

The vendor’s hands shook as he took the hero’s money. He met Chat Noir’s eyes, awe radiating off of him in waves. He looked like he wanted to say something, but was interrupted by Alya. 

“What’s your business handle? I want to make sure I tag you when I make a post about today.” 

The woman answered, leaving the hero and the man to themselves once again. Chat Noir turned to look at him, smiling politely. Seeming to find the courage to speak, the man started, 

“Our kids,” He ran a hand through his hair. Chat didn’t have to be a master at people reading to understand the man was nervous. Although the hero didn’t understand the reaction to meeting him and Ladybug, many civilians seemed to get nervous around the pair. He had always attributed it to his Lady’s beauty and strong sense of justice, but apparently he had been wrong. 

The vendor started again, “Our kids are really big fans, they would love it if we could get a picture with you.” 

Chat Noir put on a smile, all too familiar with this request. The hero appreciated the man’s decency to actually ask instead of just sneaking a picture like he was sure a few of the protestors already had. Even though he was a model, he hated being photographed without his permission.  
The paparazzi definitely didn't care when it came to Adrien Agreste’s privacy, and he had quickly found the same to be true with Chat Noir. I was a little different when the news took photos of the superhero duo fighting akumas, however, when sourceless pictures of himself or Ladybug surfaced on the internet, it filled him with fury. He recalled a specific instance where a photo of himself hugging Ladybug had circulated through all forms of media. That moment was supposed to remain private, and yet, the whole world had seen it. 

“Of course,” The cat hero obliged. 

The man removed his phone from his pocket, sliding upwards to open his camera. Chat Noir leaned into the camera, flashing his model smile. The shudder went off with a click, and the hero stood, heart warming when he saw how genuinely happy the man looked. 

“Thank you so much Monsi— I mean,” he ran a hand through his hair again, “thank you Chat Noir.” 

The hero shuffled his wings, “It was no problem.” 

Alya thanked the vendor’s for the items, handing a handful of wristbands to Chat Noir. He slid them over his hands, enjoying the way he could easily pull on them without attracting too much attention. 

“Hey, thanks for buying,” Alya said as they made their way back into the crowd, “I owe you one sometime.” 

“How about you stay out of danger during the next akuma attack?” he quipped, mimicking the tone Ladybug used to tease Alya for always being on the scene. Judging by Alya’s laugh, he had done so successfully. 

“You drive a hard bargain.” 

Before he could reply, a loud laugh split through the noise. Chat turned to see two teens zipping over the crowd in flight. There were some whoops of support and soon more people took to the sky. Beside him Alya’s wings twitched, her eyes gazed upwards. Adrien might not have a very strong intuition when detecting what others were feeling, but he had a strong sense that she wanted to join those in the sky. 

“I’ll be okay down here if you want to join them.” 

Pulled from her thoughts, Alya turned to look at the hero. Even as she directed her attention at Chat Noir, she couldn’t help but sigh longingly. 

“I should look for my friends…” but even as she spoke it wasn’t very convincing. 

Chat Noir smirked, “You know, the sky provides a great vantage point.” 

A spark of excitement shown in the blogger’s eyes. Chat Noir had a point. She would be able to find her friends much faster from the sky. Opening her wings she stretched them out behind her. The people around her moved to make room, shooting her smiles of support. 

Hesitating, Alya turned back to the cat, “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah! Go,” Chat Noir nodded, “find me later.” 

Nodding back Alya leaped, beating her wings hard. The whoosh of air her wings created made Chat squint. As she rose off the ground he watched in awe. Alya had to be an incredibly strong flier. He may not know much about flying, but to be able to take off from a standstill was impressive. As she rose above his head she waved, chest rising and falling heavily with the effort. Once she was higher she let out a whoop, doing a loop-de-loop around other fliers. Chat smiled at the trick but eventually returned his gaze to the people on the ground. 

Although the sky now had quite a few fliers, there were still lots of people—winged and non-winged—left below. Chat Noir went back to people watching. Those around him continued to stare, but no one dared approach him yet. Judging by his interaction with the vendor, the hero figured they were just unsure of how to act. They weren’t used to having one of their hero’s out and about when there wasn’t an emergency. 

As more people seemed to gather Chat pulled at the wristbands he had purchased. The back of his mind twinged with worry of the crowd being too much but he forced it down. There was a lot going on, but he didn’t feel like he was being bombarded. He could do this. 

As another group of kids ran by, he took a deep breath. There was one girl, her bright blue wings popping out against her dark skin, who stopped in her playing to look at the hero. The kid who was running behind her let out a whine as he was blocked from following the group. His oversized fledgling wings opened and he sloppily flew over the little girl. She ducked, scowling at when he almost landed on top of her. 

The hero stifled a chuckle at their antics. He briefly wondered what it would have been like to grow up around people like him. Would he have known what tapping wing meant? 

He had learned from his parents that touching wings was rude, thus had avoided it at all costs. After his interaction with Alya, however, he had to reevaluate. If wing on wing touching was considered friendly, then why had his parents told him otherwise? He supposed that as non-winged people, they weren’t aware of the custom, but deep down he wasn’t convinced. A voice in the back of his head taunted him, spurring on a bout of insecurity. It taunted him, sounding a lot like his father when he had said Adrien didn’t have a place within the winged community. Doubt clouded his senses as he began to look at the people around him. There wasn’t a binder in sight, he didn’t belong here. 

A tap on his leg startled him out of his thoughts. The little girl with the blue wings stood at his feet. She was small, the top of her head just barely reached his thigh. She eyed him seriously. 

“Are you the real Chat Noir?”

Adrien couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips. It bubbled up, only growing as the girl at his side broke into a smile. He crouched down to her height, opening his wings a fraction in order to stay balanced. 

“At your service mademoiselle,” He ducked his head, doing a little bow. Before he even had a chance to look up, the girl barreled into him, hugging him tightly. Wobbling backwards his wings flapped once, sending a zap of pain up his back. With the girl still hugging him, he fell backwards onto his bum.

“I’m June!” She exclaimed, not relenting in her hug. 

“Oof, Hello,” He gasped as she loosened her grip to smile up at him. The pain in his back lingered, but he forced a smile back at the child. She was just a kid, he wasn’t angry. 

“My mommy taught me how to stay balanced using your wings. Do you want to see?” She pushed off of his chest, not waiting for his reply. June stood next to him, one leg lifting off the ground slowly. Her tongue peaked through her lips as she stretched one wing out behind her, managing to stay balanced. The other stayed pinned to her side unmoving. At first Chat Noir was impressed with her dexterity, but as he looked closer, something didn’t look right. She wobbled a bit, putting her other foot back on the ground to balance. She beamed at the hero, 

“See! I only have one wing and I can balance better than you!” 

Chat Noir’s eyes widened, unsure of how to respond to that statement. She did a little spin, showing off her back to the hero. Sure enough, while the girl had one wing that was fully optional, the other lay misshapen and crumpled against her back. She spun around again, seeming to sense Chat’s discomfort. 

“It’s okay! I was born with it,” she blurted matter-of-factly. The confidence she exuded could only come from a kid who had to explain this to multiple people a lot of the time. She was shameless, telling the teen hero her story proudly.

“The other kids used to make fun of me, but my mommy showed me the video with the pretty girl talking about you, and they all saw it too! Now they all want to be my friend!” she stood again smiling, “They think I'm cool like you!” 

Confusion flickered across his features, “They think you’re cool like me?” 

June nodded enthusiastically. 

“But, I can’t fly… How is that cool?” 

His green eyes darted down to his hands. Pulling at the bracelets around his wrists, he bit his lip. For a moment, June was quiet, but it didn’t last long. 

The child stomped her foot. Her posture and expression radiated seriousness, but with her small stature and young age, she looked more cute than anything. That didn’t stop the hero from doubting June, however. After years of working with Ladybug, he knew strong people sometimes came in small packages. Chat Noir’s ears swiveled forward, giving the girl his full attention.

“They can’t fly either,” she huffed, “Louis only just learned, but he is a whole year older.” 

The hero cocked his head slightly, recalling the boy that had clumsily flown over June. The kid had almost hit her in the head. Without thinking Chat blurted, 

“He’s not very good at it.”

June giggled, but quickly remembered she was supposed to be upset and skewed her face back into a pout. She remained standing in front of him. Since he was still on the ground from earlier, the top of her head was just at his eye level. As a bonus, she didn’t seem to care whether or not he looked her in the eyes or not. It was much easier to carry a conversation this way. 

“Flying isn’t what makes someone cool.” 

Wise words from such a small girl. The hero supposed that growing up different from everyone else had made her more knowledgeable than the average child. At the very least, she was more aware that the world wasn’t a rosy place. Chat Noir felt a pang of kinship with the girl. Fuzzy memories of his parents discussing in not-so-hushed tones about how to hide his wings, deciding to keep the feathery appendages a secret while their son remained blissfully ignorant: it stung. 

June elaborated, “Ladybug can’t fly and she’s super cool.”

A laugh bubbled up through the hero’s memories, “I can’t argue with that.”

The girl smiled, pout forgotten. Raising one eyebrow, Chat Noir mirrored her expression. 

“What makes someone cool?”

June thought for a moment. Her eyes wandered around the park, glancing up at the winged people still flying above their heads. Chat Noir followed her gaze, noticing Alya was no longer in the air. He turned back to June, assuming the blogger had found her friends. The child seemed to be stumped on his question, but just when he was going to tell her to not worry about answering, she opened her mouth. 

“Well, on the playground we play Ladybug and Chat Noir.” 

The hero put his hands behind him, propping himself up as he leaned back. His feathers brushed along the ground, but the feeling wasn’t strong enough to be bothersome. June continued her story, eyes still wandering. 

“We have to take turns playing now, because the teacher got mad at us for not giving everyone a chance to be Ladybug or Chat Noir.” 

The cat nodded in understanding, waiting for June to continue. 

“I was the one who never got a chance to play. The kids said I couldn’t be a hero because I only have one wing.” 

“That’s not right,” Chat frowned, “you have to have a miraculous to be a hero, it has nothing to do with wings.”

June giggled, but the hero wasn’t sure what was funny. Ladybug and Chat Noir had already addressed Parisians about how dangerous it was for civilians to try and be superheroes.

Their principal had been akumatized when he had put himself at risk pretending to be a wielder. After purifying that akuma, Ladybug had wasted no time in addressing the city. That was how the whole ‘be an everyday hero’ idea had started. 

“After the teacher got them in trouble, I got to play, but I was usually a civilian that got out after being tagged by the akuma person,” June frowned at her own memories. 

Shaking her head, the young girl looked to the hero. The frown she sported morphed into a smile, “But now they know you can’t fly either!’ 

The hero furrowed his brow, missing the connection between her being happy and his inability to fly. Before he could ask however June babbled on, 

“They can’t fly right now, but I’m the only one who won’t fly,” she said it with a shrug, “So in order for it to be an accurate representation…” 

She pronounced the last two words slowly as if she wasn’t used to saying them. It was adorable. 

“I get to be Chat Noir!” 

Understanding dawned across the hero’s features. 

“And that makes you cool?” 

June beamed, hopping up and down in place, “Yeah! You’re only the bravest most bestest hero!” 

The hero blushed a bright red at her compliment. He knew he could never hold a candle to Ladybug, but it was nice to know that someone thought he was a good hero. The girl continued talking, swaying in place as she did. 

“The kids aren’t mean to me anymore! Now that they know you’re like me, they think I'm brave too!”

“You are brave,” Chat Noir said sincerely. Tears sprung into the corner of his eyes. As he gazed at her standing across from him, he felt his breath hitch. She had seen his inability to fly and it made her feel like she was not alone. What he had considered his biggest failure, she attributed to his strength. Just like Alya had done. Maybe he was wrong to judge himself so harshly. 

As she stood in front of him, completely oblivious to the stares of others, Chat Noir felt like he understood. He knew what it felt like to be an outcast because of the way you were born. While on the outside Adrien faked being non-winged, he knew he was living a lie. He was forced to fit in, but deep down he knew he didn’t belong. Whether he was Adrien or Chat Noir, there was always a disconnect between him and everyone else. 

He would always be different. 

June was the same. Even in her own community she was an outcast. No matter where she went, she would be labeled as different. While the thought made Chat simmer in anger, the child remained calm. Recalling how nonchalantly she had told him she only had one wing, he figured it wasn’t just calm. 

June couldn't be older than six and she knew who she was. She carried her differences with pride, embracing them for making her special. She let the challenges that came with make her stronger. Swallowing, Chat wished he had that bravery. 

“Chat Noir?” The girl frowned, “Are you okay?” 

The hero nodded vigorously, smiling even as a tear he had failed to hold back streaked down his face. 

“Yes, I’m great.” 

For once, he wasn’t lying. 

The girl took a step closer, hovering for a moment before embracing him. This hug was much more gentle. She whispered gently into his cat ears, “My mommy says that hugs always help.” 

Chat Noir laughed, wiping his tear track away as the child pulled away once more. 

“Your mom sounds like a very smart woman,” he said sincerely. 

June nodded vigorously, smiling even wider. She offered her hand in a gesture to help him off the ground. Although she was little, she had a surprising amount of strength. Another thing like Ladybug, the cat hero thought with a smile. 

Before their conversation could continue, a crackle of feedback shot through the park. On their own accord, Chat’s ears shot backwards. He stood protectively in front of June, ready to fight whatever had made the noise. His wings remained puffed up behind him as he surveyed the area, relaxing only when he realized the source of the noise. Alya stood alone, holding a wireless mic and a portable amplifier. 

She adjusted the dials on the equipment before speaking, “Sorry everyone, I didn’t mean to blow out your eardrums.” 

There were a few good natured laughs. The winged people who had been flying began reuniting with those who had stayed on the ground. Some perched in surrounding trees, legs dangling in midair as they sat on sturdy limbs. Chat Noir found himself smiling once again.

“We are all ready to start with our guest speakers, and I have just been informed that my good friend Luka is back in town, so our favorite local band, Kitty Section, will be performing afterward!” 

That announcement piqued Adrien’s interest, he had no idea Luka had been back in town. The blonde wasn’t really surprised that he was one of the last people to know, after the older boy had left to study music in London, he and Adrien had fallen out of touch. However, what did surprise him was the revival of Kitty Section. While they had been pretty popular, they hadn’t played together for months. Further, their keyboardist was currently in the audience as his alter ego. 

June tapped on his leg, bringing his attention back to her. She scuffed her shoe against the ground, glancing up at the hero shyly. 

“Can you lift me up?” she asked in a small voice, “I can’t see through the people.” 

He smiled, thoughts about being left out of the band forgotten. For all he knew they had reached out to him while he had been transformed. The hero nodded, stooping to pick up the child. He hoisted her up, once again ignoring the twinge in his back at the movement. Stifling a scowl at the inconvenience it caused, he adjusted June in his arms so she could see the stage. Chat Noir refused to let his back stop him now. 

Now that she was situated in his arms, June looked to the stage, clapping politely as the speaker joined Alya on stage. Adrien recognized the woman from Alya’s social media. While he didn’t remember her name, he knew she had been lobbying to change policy surrounding winged rights for years. He wasn’t familiar with what exactly she did, just that Alya admired her greatly. 

The hero half listened to her speech, cheering along with June and the audience at appropriate times. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested in what she was saying, he just found it hard to focus on her words. Maybe it was the proximity of other people as they pushed closer to the stage, or maybe the loudness of the speakers was overwhelming his ears, honestly the hero wasn’t sure. Shaking his head slightly in hopes to clear it, he tuned in again to the speech. 

“Now you all have heard my words, my stories, and my calls to action, and I know I’m not the only one who has experienced injustice for simply being who they are.”

The crowd whooped in agreement. The speakers ashy blonde wings flared behind her. 

“However, I think there is one person in particular who we would all like to hear from.” 

Once again the crowd whooped. Chat Noir adjusted his grip on June, not wanting to accidentally drop her. While she wasn’t heavy, she wasn’t exactly the most comfortable thing to be holding for an extended amount of time. 

“Now, I don’t mean to ambush you like this, but Chat Noir?” 

The hero felt his stomach drop. Hundreds of eyes turned to look at him, waiting for his response. There was no invisibility here. 

“Chat Noir, we are honored that you are here with us today. Is there anything you would like to say to everyone while I still have the mic?” 

The hero forced a smile, all too familiar with how to handle this kind of call out. He swallowed his fear, preparing to play off his ‘no’ with a joke and a laugh, but something stopped him.

June squirmed in his arms. 

He looked down at the young child. She had opened her one wing behind her, preparing to be set down. Chat Noir felt his gaze soften. If he could change her life for the better without even trying, how much of a difference could he make if he spoke? If he decided to share his views, and maybe even some of his experiences, how many others could he help? 

June met his eyes, a question weighing heavily in her gaze. This may not be the kind of hero work he was used to doing, but Adrien remembered the promise he made three years ago. 

He would stand up for what was right. He would protect these Parisians. 

Nodding at June, he set her down. Her approving smile was all the support he needed. 

“If you don’t mind,” Adrien smiled as his voice came out confidently, “I think my statements are long overdue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir interacting with kids is such an underrated part of the show and I just couldn't resist the opportunity to include it. There are hella foil characters in this chapter but also more lore and background so hehe. 
> 
> Alya and Chat Noir is the duo we never knew we needed. It was fun to play with their relationship. 
> 
> I struggled to write something that was not angsty, which says a lot about me as a writer, lmao. Hopefully I managed to make it sweet. Let me know what you think! Your feedback is much appreciated. (I don't have a beta so it's double appreciated)
> 
> Thank you for reading! As always, please share if you enjoyed :D 
> 
> xoxo  
> \- Creative


	11. Blurred Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir delivers an impromptu speech at the protest. The lines between his civilian and hero lives become blurred.

Marinette watched as Chat Noir—Adrien, she was still reeling from that discovery, made his way through the crowd to take the microphone. The little girl he had befriended earlier slipped her hand into his, causing the hero to pause. He crouched down speaking to her as if the whole protest wasn’t watching. Marinette smiled, watching the two with a warm expression. The girl giggled and nodded at the hero, eliciting a short “awe” from the onlookers. He stood, taking the girl's hand once again as they walked up to the stage.

Seeing Chat Noir with the young child spurred a warm feeling within Marinette. She pressed her hands into the pockets of her coat as a blush spread across her face. There was something about the interaction that made butterflies swarm in her stomach. She couldn’t put her finger on what exactly, but that didn’t stop her face from heating up. Willing the red in her cheeks away, she looked to Alya, who stood next to the pigtailed girl. Along with Nino, the trio had been watching the speech from the bottom of the temporary stage’s steps.

The pigtailed girl was not surprised to find Alya’s eyes shining with interest as the hero came forward. When the brunette had found Nino and Marinette, she had practically exploded from excitement. Marinette had teased her, laughing about how the blogger was practically fangirling over the hero, something she hadn’t done outwardly since Collège. Having Chat Noir at this protest was a massive source of pride for the girl. Marinette was sure that if she knew both of Paris’ heroes were in attendance Alya would have combusted. Smiling knowingly, Marinette watched with awe as the blogger panned her camera into the audience, adeptly capturing the hero and the child. The sea of bodies parted for the pair, giving Alya a perfect angle. 

Marinette was impressed. Alya had truly thought of everything. Even now she was live streaming: recording so those who couldn’t come would be able to watch it either in real-time or when they had a chance. Noticing her friend staring, Alya smiled at Marinette, enveloping her in a quick hug before returning to her phone’s tripod. The blogger’s energy radiated off of her in waves, making Marinette shiver in excitement. It was hard not to get caught up in the emotion around her. 

Feedback from the microphone recaptured the bluenette’s attention. Chat Noir had made it to the bottom of the stage. The girl who had walked with him had disappeared into the crowd, presumably to reunite with her friends for family. It was sweet. Marinette knew that Chat Noir had a soft spot for young children, and now that she knew that Adrien was the same person, it was becoming hard to stop her heart from fluttering. 

After the reveal, Tikki had not been happy with Marinette. The kwami had confided that she was afraid that knowing Chat Noir’s identity would cause Marinette to lose focus. With Hawk Moth becoming more erratic and more dangerous with his akumatizations, focus was one thing Marinette could not afford to lose. The young hero was determined to prove she could still be a good Ladybug while knowing the truth. Not only did she need to convince her kwami, but she needed to convince herself. 

Long after Tikki had gone to sleep, Marinette laid awake agonizing about her responsibilities. She was in charge of the miracle box, purifying akumas, strategizing to defeat villains, and keeping not only her own identity a secret, but also protecting the identities of the other heroes on the Miraculous team. Now she had to add proving to her kwami that she was still capable of balancing all of these responsibilities as well as her teenage emotions. Marinette knew that her duty as a hero had to come first, thus had vowed to put her feelings for Adrien and Chat Noir aside. This was proving to be harder than she thought, especially as characteristics from each persona began blending. 

The pigtailed girl wasn’t sure when it had begun, but both she and Adrien had grown into a mixture of their civilian and hero personas. Ladybug was still the epitome of confidence and grace, but Marinette now had some of those traits as well. She found herself becoming less flustered around others, and the clumsiness that shrouded her like a plague in her former years had become much less. Adrien had grown from being quiet and holding his friends at a distance, to cracking puns and confiding about his home life. Though, he hadn’t been fully transparent with the root of the issues, allowing himself, as Adrien, to express less than flawless emotion was a big step. Now that Marinette knew he was Chat Noir, these character developments made even more sense. 

A nudge from Nino brought her out of her thoughts. She blinked, turning to the boy who stood slightly behind the two girls. While he remained silent, he raised his eyebrow, questioning if Marinette was okay. Shaking off her worries, she nodded, turning back to the crowd just in time to see Chat Noir clear the stage. 

Instead of walking up the stairs at the side, he simply hopped onto the platform. Marinette suppressed a snort at the gasps around her. While the stage was a good 60 centimeters off the ground, the incognito hero knew that the enhanced strength the kwamis provided made the jump easy. As someone who regularly jumped over rooftops, she was not as impressed as her fellow protest goers. 

The cat hero stood, suppressing a wince. He played it off with a smile and a wink, earning a few whoops of support from the crowd. Marinette was not convinced. With the amount of binding he had to do as Adrien, she could only imagine how much his back and wings hurt. Landing on the hard stage must have jarred them unnaturally. Knowing that Nino had his eye out for her, Marinette suppressed her frown but kept her eye on the cat hero.

As he walked to greet the previous speaker, Marinette recognized the halting gait as Adrien. Watching something so familiar be mirrored on the hero felt like whiplash. It was one thing knowing that Adrien and Chat Noir were the same person, but seeing it still managed to surprise the pigtailed girl. Back at her house, he had walked the same. Just like her father when he hurt his back hauling flour for the bakery. 

Chat Noir turned to the original speaker, greeting her with a playful bow. There were a few chuckles from the audience, along with the sound of camera shutters clicking. The woman smiled and spoke to the hero, microphone away from her mouth preventing all but those closer from hearing her. Chat nodded and took the microphone from her hands, miraculous ring glinting in the sunlight. 

Now alone on the stage, Chat stared out into the audience. His tail flicked incessantly, making Marinette wonder what was going through his mind. Green eyes scanning the crowd, he seemed apprehensive, less sure of himself. For a moment Marinette caught a glimpse of the Chat Noir who had shown up on her balcony the past night: vulnerable and unsure. His expression was painfully that of Adrien. 

The crowd waited with bated breath, eyes glued to the hero. Marinette could practically hear his thoughts grinding to a halt, freezing up. Every second seemed to stretch longer making Marinette antsy. Next to her, Alya’s wing twitched, letting Marinette know she wasn’t the only one who felt that way. 

She had to do something. 

Bringing her coat covered elbow to her mouth she let out a fake cough. Just as she hopped, Chat’s ears swiveled towards her followed closely by his gaze. As his green eyes met her blue ones, time seemed to stop. Marinette took a deep breath, practically sighing in relief when Chat Noir mirrored her action. The breath seemed to draw him out of his insecurity, melting the doubt from his expression. 

Clearing his throat, he stood up straighter, flashing a smile. It was as if a switch had flipped. This was the Chat Noir Paris had come to recognize. 

“I guess silence does speak volumes.” 

A murmur of relief and understanding spread through the audience. The hero looked back to Marinette, a silent thank you shining in his eyes. 

“Some of you are upset with me, and you have every right to be,” the hero stated. The murmurs of the crowd continued but Chat Noir pressed on undeterred, “Three years ago I made a vow to protect Paris from the forces of evil, and in recent months, I have not made true on that promise.” 

The hand that wasn’t holding the microphone twitched, reaching for something to hold on to. The eyes of strangers bored into him, pulling his attention in all directions. Adrien briefly wondered how people did this regularly. Making a solo speech was not his standard press appearance, not to mention doing so ad-lib. Usually, he just stood behind Ladybug and let her do the talking, but he supposed that was part of the reason he needed to speak now. While she might have been the better speaker of the two, he couldn't rely on her to say this for him. As much as it scared him, he had to do this on his own.

“Hawk Moth is not the only evil in Paris. Far from it… In fact, I think almost everyone here has fallen victim to this evil. It’s quiet, subtle if you’re not looking for it, and far too easy to compartmentalize when you’re used to it,” a dark look crossed over Chat Noir’s eyes. His free hand curled into a fist, nails pressing into his palm. 

Voice picking up intensity, the hero continued, “And I’ve ignored it. While I get to play the hero, people like me are not making it home at night, they are losing their jobs because companies can now include wing-binders as a necessity in their dress code, they are getting physically and verbally attacked for being who they are, and…” 

He recalled all of the times he had been called slurs. The hate-filled tongues had felt like lashes on his soul. He remembered being jumped by wing hating people as he was about to transform. Adrien could still feel the blood-chilling fear that had sprung his body into action, barely escaping unscathed. Honestly, he owed Plagg his life for holding onto his transformation for that long. He may have superpowers, but hatred and bigotry were dangerous weapons to be the receiving. They scared him far more than any Akuma. 

Chat Noir gazed out into the crowd. These people faced those things too, except they couldn’t escape it as civilians. It only angered him more. His father had saddled him with a double-edged sword. While he got to live in a carefully concocted cocoon of lies, he was forced to stay silent as others suffered. While he got to understand the privilege that came with not having wings, he also knew what it was like on the other side of the coin. He knew how many people were disregarded because of something they couldn’t control. 

He hated it. 

He hated that he lived in a world where it was safer to suffer from wing damage and live a lie than to live as one's authentic self. He hated himself for not having the courage to break out of the lie that was Adrien Agreste. He hated how he had become alienated from both the winged and non-winged community. 

For a moment the hero hesitated. Doubt twisted in his stomach, making him glad he hadn’t eaten much. Unconsciously he sought out Marinette in the crowd, finding peace within her blue gaze. He wasn’t entirely sure how she managed to center him so easily, but there was no time to dwell on that now. Focusing once again, continued his speech. 

“Those of us that can fly…” The hero winced, ears flattening against his blond hair. He could feel his body screaming with unreleased tension. While he might not be in that group, he knew that their ability to fly was under attack. Righteous anger flowed outwards with his words, infecting the crowd before him, “you’re forced into a box set by people in office that only listen to one side of the story.” 

The audience seemed to be surging together, letting out whoops of agreement. Some part of his mind whispered that things would only get worse now that he was speaking out, but he squashed it. Finally, he was letting thoughts that he buried deep within himself surface, and the rush of it was addicting. It was a luxury he had never been afforded as Adrien, and only recently began to understand as Chat Noir. Right now he was free. Unbridled. 

Adrien felt his wings shiver on their own accord. He didn’t have to turn to look to know that a few of his feathers had come loose.

“I’ve turned a blind eye to struggles that I know exist because I’ve experienced them too! And for what? To focus on a supervillain that is taking advantage of this injustice? A supervillain who is using it to gain more power? Instead of dealing with the problem, myself and others with power have been defaulting to band-aid solutions. That’s not fair to you!” 

The fear and apprehension he had felt earlier burned, consumed by this new anger. Anger that he had been forced to turn into fear and false indifference because of his identities. Adrien was tired of being confined. He was tired of being put into a box, forced to bottle up his emotions. Releasing them felt euphoric. 

Individual faces in the crowd became blobs in Chat Noir’s charged senses. It was a little disorienting but the hero knew he couldn’t stop. He was semi-aware that his wings had puffed up, a few molted feathers were strewn across the stage, yet he wasn’t embarrassed. 

“I’m supposed to stand up for you… to make Paris a safer place for everyone, and I have been failing miserably. I want… no, I need to change that.” 

Squeezing his eyes shut, Adrien could hear his father scolding him in his head. His booming voice seemed to rattle in his brain, reminding him that he didn’t belong. Instead of letting it scare him, however, he let it fuel the passion in his voice. Lines between standing up for himself and standing up for people like him began to blur. The hero spoke louder. 

“From today onward, you have my word that I am done being silent. I refuse to remain silent. Winged rights should not be negotiable. We cannot be forced into a wing binder and ignored.” 

The crowd cheered again, making Chat’s ears ring. The woman who had handed him the microphone climbed the steps back onto the stage, signaling the hero that his time was up. Now that the energy of the moment was waning, the onslaught of stimuli threatened to overwhelm him. His hands shook as he handed back the microphone. 

“Thank you for your support Chat Noir!” the woman spoke. 

Chat nodded, hoping that his facial expression was one of friendliness not disconnect. On autopilot he waved at the crowd, smiling as they cheered once more. He turned to walk off the stage, and it took more concentration than he would ever admit to find the steps. Trying not to stumble he grabbed onto the railing, pushing through the noise that seemed to flood his mind. He reached the bottom, almost pitching forward as someone accidentally brushed into his wings. 

The twinge in his wings returned with a vengeance, zapping down his back like a bolt of lightning. Failing to suppress his grimace he turned to see the offender. He was surprised to see Ivan hauling a hand truck stacked with his drum kit. Chat Noir’s face softened. It had been an accident. The larger teen must be having a hard time maneuvering the load through the crowd. Ivan pulled the stack around the back of the stage presumably to meet the rest of Kitty Section. 

The hero watched him for a moment before turning back to the crowd that stood around the stage. He felt himself hesitating, knowing his ability to sort out his senses was fraying quickly. Had he been Adrien, he could have followed Ivan to set up with the band. It would have been nice to stand away from the incessant noise of the people, to focus on nothing but the piano keys in front of him. However, he wasn’t Adrien Agreste. As far as his classmates were concerned, Chat Noir wasn’t their friend. Fumbling with the cuffs on his suit he stood awkwardly by the steps. 

Marinette watched the whole exchange from a few feet away. Chat Noir’s speech had the crowd buzzing with excitement. Even with the stage empty, save a few volunteers that were helping prep for Kitty Section, the crowd remained charged and engaged. Alya was practically buzzing next to her, pausing her live stream while the band began their set up. Before Marinette could say anything, the blogger had walked up to Chat Noir greeting him with a nudge from her wings. 

“That was amazing!” 

Frowning to herself, Marinette watched her partner pull at his suit gloves before responding. It took him a moment, but he smiled at Alya, recognition dawning across his features. The fumble did not go unnoticed, but Alya had the decency to not press him about it. 

“Thank you,” He said hoarsely. There was another pause before he added hesitantly, “Did you find your friends?” 

Marinette wished that she could whisk him away to a nearby rooftop and give him time to regroup. She could tell he needed it, especially if he was disoriented enough to not notice herself and Nino standing less than a meter away. While he could be acting to protect his identity, the nervous grabbing at his suit and inability to look Alya directly in the eye said otherwise. 

Adrien was getting overwhelmed. 

It made her heartache to imagine the unease he must be feeling. She knew he did a great job at managing the bouts of sensory disconnect, especially during akuma attacks, but right now he seemed to be struggling. Ladybug always seemed to help, but he didn’t know her identity. 

Marinette was at an impasse. 

“Yeah,” Alya smiled, “Chat Noir, meet Marinette and Nino.”

“Nice to see you again, dude,” Nino offered a fistbump, his smile practically glowing when the hero fist bumped him back. Marinette smiled politely, mind reeling for a solution to the unspoken problem. She huffed to herself, wishing she had Ladybug’s handy spot vision to help her. 

The casual “Hey Kitty,” slipped out before Marinette even realized what she was saying. Her time as Ladybug had made the greeting her default, and since she had been distracted trying to help Adrien out, she had accidentally let it escape. Without looking Marinette could feel Alya’s eyes were on her, glowing with interest. The blogger smelled a scoop. 

Blushing brightly, Marinette sputtered, “Chat Noir! I meant Chat Noir.” 

The hero perked his ears forward, hands pausing in the fidgeting. He regarded her with a confused stare, probably trying to figure out why she, Marinette, was calling him the same thing Ladybug did. Hopefully, the glamour that protected her identity was working because Marinette really did not want to be outed as Ladybug in front of Alya and Nino. She could already see Tikki’s disappointed stare and hear Alya’s yelling. Neither were things that Marinette enjoyed receiving. Lips pressing into a thin line, she almost missed the hero’s reply. 

“Don’t worry about it, Princess.”

Marinette choked on air. Within a second, Chat Noir’s hand was on her back, patting gently. It vaguely reminded the pigtailed girl of the position they had been in last night, however now it was her gasping for breath. As she righted herself, Chat Noir’s hand lingered for a moment longer. In front of her, she could practically feel Alya bursting with questions but thankfully, an escape soon came jogging up to the group.

Luka shook his blue hair out of his eyes as he stopped. Marinette turned to him, purposefully ignoring Alya’s intense stare and Chat Noir’s confused one. Trying anything to get her mind off how red her face was, Marinette focused all her attention on Luka. He had gotten taller since the last time they had seen him, as had the wings on his back. Idly she wondered how they had never dragged on the floor when they were younger. They were massive. 

“Have any of you heard from Adrien? He isn’t responding to any of our messages or calls.” 

The older boy looked directly at Marinette when he said Adrien’s name, whether it was on purpose or accident, however, she wasn’t sure. The pair had a complicated past. They dated for a while, years ago, before Marinette had not so gracefully revealed to Luka that he was not the person she loved. It had not been one of her finest moments. As kind and understanding as Luka was, he didn’t want to be the person Marinette settled for. Sometimes she wondered what they could have been if Marinette had given them more of a chance. 

Stupid teenage hormones. 

However that was now in the past, and both teens had moved on. Right now Kitty Section needed a keyboardist because Adrien was currently Chat Noir and couldn’t answer his phone. Marinette’s brow furrowed in thought as Alya and Nino shook their heads. The latter even pulled out his phone and gave Adrien a call to see if he would pick up. Chat Noir looked at the floor guiltily when the phone eventually prompted his best friend to leave a message. 

“We had another player on standby, but she bailed because she didn’t realize she was playing for a group of protesters,” Luka rolled his eyes, wings shuffling behind him. 

Alya scoffed in disgust, letting Marinette off the hook for a moment. Adrien just looked guiltier behind his mask. 

“If you need a keyboardist,” Marinette piped up, praying that Chat Noir wouldn't kill her for making the suggestion, “Chat Noir is an excellent player.” 

Forgetting for a moment that the pigtailed girl knew his identity, he blanched. Marinette smiled sheepishly as he collected himself. The only person who knew Chat Noir could play the piano was Ladybug, however, once he remembered what she knew, it made sense that Marinette would make the suggestion. After all, he was the original keyboardist. 

“Really?” Luka gazed at the hero, interest piqued. 

“I do play,” Chat Noir allowed, tail flicking in apprehension. He may have been a little overwhelmed by recent events, but music always managed to recenter him. Just as Plagg had played the familiar lullaby to calm him previously, Adrien knew that playing with Kitty Section would help. He remembered the chords, he knew the songs. If Luka allowed him the opportunity, the hero felt in his bones that he could do this. 

After a moment of deliberation Luka responded, “If you would like to, we could really use you.” 

The hero smiled, already feeling himself relax at the thought of being behind a keyboard, lost in the music he wasn’t forced to learn. He turned to Marinette, eyes shining brightly. 

“Okay.” 

Marinette watched as the two boys made their way to where the other members of Kitty Section were standing. It was a little way away from the crowd, behind the temporary stage. Luka’s sister waved them over, pointing to the keyboard and drum kit that needed to be moved onto the platform. Her girlfriend, Rose, gave Chat Noir a stack of music, talking animatedly about the score. The hero nodded along, eyes glued to the staff sheets in front of him. While he looked over the music, Luka and Ivan began lifting the heavier equipment onto the stage. Chat Noir joined them once he had a handle on the music, sinewed muscles bulging under his suit. Marinette swore she wasn’t staring. 

“Girl!” Alya jabbed Marinette in the ribs. Pulled out of her thoughts, the Eurasian girl pouted at the blogger, rubbing her side gingerly. 

“What was that for?” 

Alya exclaimed, “How did you know that Chat Noir played the piano?”

“Um,” Marinette flushed, “an interview?” 

Glasses sliding down her nose, Alya shot her best friend an incredulous look, “You underestimate the number of hours I’ve spent on hero forums. That is not public knowledge… at least not yet.” 

“You guys had to work together to battle an akuma a few years ago, right?” Nino pointed out, adjusting the red cap on his head to block the winter sun. 

“Yeah!” The pigtailed girl jumped at the opportunity. She couldn't exactly tell her friends that he had told her when she was Ladybug. 

Nino nodded, looking to Alya, “It was Nathaniel’s akuma identity… what was his name?” 

“Evillustrator,” the blogger replied without missing a beat. Alya thought for a moment. She glanced over to the hero who now stood behind the keyboard looking over the music he had been given once again. Marinette followed her gaze, her blue eyes softening considerably at the sight of the hero. It wasn’t lost to Alya.

A devilish spark burned in her eyes, “But something tells me that isn’t where she found that out.” 

Nino glanced between the two girls, taking half a step backward to avoid being brought into whatever was starting between them. Marinette, who had paled considerably, regarded Alya with a guarded expression. The blogger chuckled, tossing her reddish-brown hair behind her shoulder. 

“Mari, don’t look so scared,” her hazel eyes sparkled with humor, “I just want to know how long Chat Noir has been your kitty.” 

If Marinette had blushed red before, this was a whole new level. It painted her cheeks within seconds of Alya’s implication. Did she think she was dating Chat Noir? Her bestie cackled at Marinette’s reaction, wrapping one arm around the shorter girl. 

“I mean, I get why you had to keep your relationship a secret, but you guys could at least be more subtle. Princess? Really?” Alya snorted. 

“We aren’t in a relationship!” Marinette couldn't stop blushing, “We’re just friends, that's all.” 

“Right,” Alya winked. 

“Alya, no! I’m serious.” 

“Don’t worry Mari,” Alya stage whispered so Nino could hear, “I won't tell anyone that you’re Chat Noir’s secret Princess.” 

Marinette hid her face in her hands, sighing, “Oh my God, Alya, I’m not his princess. We have only talked a few times.” 

Alya pushed onwards, “Right, he just rescued you from Evillustrator, a knight in shining armor, all those years ago and didn’t catch feelings for an amazing girl like you.” 

Instead of replying, Marinette let out a groan, only releasing her head from her grasp when Alya dissolved into cackles again. The blogger reached out one of her wings, embracing Marinette in its feathers. The shorter girl looked up at her best friend, suppressing a smile. She knew Alya was just teasing, at least mostly, of course, she was curious about the nicknames that had been uttered today, but Marinette knew she wouldn’t push if Marinette didn’t want her to. The wing embrace was Alya letting her off the hook. Marinette was grateful. 

Nino joined in from behind them, wrapping his arms around the two friends with ease. He kissed Alya’s forehead sweetly, 

“You’re my princess babe.” 

“Thanks, babe. You’re mine too,” Alya turned and pecked him on the cheek, wiggling out of the group embrace before he could even process what she said. Nino didn’t miss a beat, curtsying comically towards his girlfriend. 

Marinette snorted, about to comment but was cut off by a familiar guitar riff. All three friends turned up to the stage to see Luka at the mic. The rest of Kitty Section was behind him, ready to rock. Chat Noir caught Marinette’s eye, winking as Luka announced their first song. 

“Hello, citizens of Paris!” 

The crowd cheered, Marinette included. 

“Today we have a very special guest with us,” Luka turned back to look at Chat Noir, beckoning for him to come forward. The crowd continued to cheer, as the hero stepped out from behind the keyboard. 

“Please give a warm welcome to Chat Noir, who will be substituting for our keyboardist!” 

If the crowd was loud before, they went even crazier at the prospect of hearing one of their heroes play an instrument. Chat Noir waved, ears flattening against his head at the noise. Marinette would have been concerned at the action if it hadn’t been for the genuine smile that stretched across his face. 

“If you like what you hear today, or if you don’t, ” Luka continued earning some chuckles from the audience, “Please consider donating to Nest! They are a charity that works to support the passage of legislation to protect winged people and provides education on how to participate in this social action! They will be walking around in bright yellow t-shirts collecting any donations!” 

With this statement, Luka removed a Euro from the pocket of his skinny jeans and placed it into a bucket. A volunteer in a yellow shirt picked up the bucket and moved through the crowd, collecting donations before the music had even started. Chat Noir moved back behind the keyboard, double-checking that everything was on one last time. Luka glanced backward, receiving a nod from each of the band members. They were ready. 

“We’re Kitty Section, and this is I Love Unicorns.” 

Electrified by the sudden energy that consumed him, Adrien played his heart out. Around him, the other members did the same, dancing and singing right on the beat. The steady playing consumed Adrien. With every pulse from Ivan’s bass drum to the riff of Luka’s guitar, the emotions that had threatened to overwhelm the hero melted away. He shook his head to the music, blond hair flying wildly. Gazing out into the sea of faces, he immediately found Marinette. She beamed up at the stage, face slightly flushed from dancing in the cool winter air. Chat felt a warmth bloom in his chest, mixing pleasantly with the electricity of performing. Her stunning blue eyes focused on him as she danced, leaving him breathless.

Chat Noir didn’t miss a note. 

As the song drew to a close, Luka improvised a harmonious riff, carrying out the rocking energy until Rose’s last breath of vocals. Chat hit the final chord, sustaining it even as the crowd erupted into claps and cheers. It was amazing. While the hero knew his work was appreciated, it didn’t quite get the same instant gratification is this. He allowed himself to bask in it, letting the supportive cheers wash away the tendrils of self-doubt that seemed to weave their way into every waking moment. Once again he gazed out to Marinette. She was jumping up and down, cheering for the band—for him. He looked around at the people who he just played with, feeling his chest swell with pride as they congratulated him as if he had always been a part of their group.

He grinned. For the first time in a long time, Chat Noir felt like he belonged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
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> As always, kudos and comments are appreciated. 
> 
> Stay safe! 
> 
> xoxo  
> Creative


	12. False Pretences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug and Chat Noir meet up for their evening patrol. The pair use the opportunity to talk about the events of that day and become closer. Eventually, they leave on an actual patrol, racing across Paris. When non-akuma trouble arises, can they make things right without relying on their miraculous abilities?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: MENTIONS OF BLOOD  
> WARNING: MILD VIOLENCE

Chat closed his eyes, resting his chin on his hand. He sat on the tall palace surrounding the Louvre museum, wings billowing out behind him in a relaxed fashion. He was content.

The protest had been a success. After his performance with Kitty Section, Chat Noir had rejoined Marinette and her friends. They had welcomed him with open arms, treating Chat Noir no different than they would anyone else. It reminded the hero so much of meeting them as Adrien. Chloe had warned the blond that everyone at school would try to use him to get his wealth or fame, but when he had met Nino, Alya, then Marinette, he knew Chloe was wrong. Sure, some people tried to use him, but not the trio. The genuine kindness that radiated from each of them was palpable. 

After a few more hours of speakers, donations, and petitions—Chat Noir signed those along with autographs for people who asked, the chill of the winter was beginning to set in. The crowd gradually dispersed leaving the volunteers and vendors to pack things up. Chat Noir stayed and helped, meeting a lot of really cool civilians the longer he spent hanging around. Eventually, though, he had to get going, he and Ladybug had patrol that evening and he needed some time to process the day. 

So now he sat, trying to absorb the last bit of warmth from the setting sun before it was swallowed completely in the winter chill. The cat ears atop his head flicked against his hair, picking up on the sounds around him. The city bustled, showing no signs of weariness even into the night. There were no sounds of Ladybug, yet.

The hero waited. Although he technically had time to stop by the Agreste Mansion and detransform, he didn’t want to. Deep down he knew he was just delaying seeing the inevitable disappointment on Nathalie’s face when he turned in unfinished work, but he was telling himself that it was because he wanted to watch the sunset and spend more time with Ladybug.

His stomach grumbled, causing him to open his eyes with a start. The hero had been so fixated on the protest he had completely skipped lunch. Sighing, he played with the silicone bands that remained on his wrists from the event; he would just eat later. 

Even though he knew he was hungry, the thought of food made his insides squeeze uncomfortably. The relationship between his body and food was fickle, and his father’s diet plans only further complicated this relationship. Adrien knew his head was no good at separating biological needs from emotions. Others seemed to have no trouble eating—Adrien had watched Nino eat mangoes with no issue; how the other boy enjoyed the way the fruit simultaneously felt slimy and sinewy Adrien would never understand—which only made mealtime more stressful. It was hard to communicate why certain colors or textures made his throat close up and his tongue refuse to swallow. Without any reason other than it feeling wrong, Adrien knew he couldn’t bring it up with Nathalie. His father would be upset. 

Chat Noir shook off the reservations that clouded his head. Worry would only spoil his night with Ladybug. Allowing his mind to drift, he returned to his memories of the protest. It was easy to ignore the hollowness in his stomach when the adrenaline from the event still drummed through his veins. 

It wasn’t the same kind of adrenaline that kept his head clear during Akuma battles, rather, it was something softer, nudging at the back of his mind like a supportive hand. It was similar to the feeling he had experienced when he found Marinette’s eyes in the crowd. It lifted him over the unease of his senses, allowing him to relax and be himself. Whenever he tried to pinpoint this feeling, it darted just out of reach, licking at the back of his mind almost teasingly. Adrien had since stopped chasing after it, knowing he needed its grounding nature more than he needed to examine it further. 

“Hey Kitty,” came a voice from behind him. The hero startled, having been so lost in thought he hadn’t heard his partner approaching. Adrien stood quickly, blinking away the dizziness that swarmed his head. He must have stumbled because Ladybug was quickly at his side. 

“You okay?” Ladybug frowned, concerned, “You usually hear me from a mile away… I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

Steadying himself, Chat Noir shot Ladybug a smile. He hated to see her worried. 

“I’m just kitten around, Milady, I’m feline paw-sitively claw-some.” 

The red-clad hero rolled her eyes, “Could you have squeezed any more cat puns into that response?” 

“Paw-sibly, but I wouldn't want to make Milady a-paw-led.” 

Ladybug bit back a smile. As ridiculous as her partner's cat-themed puns were, she had to admit, they had grown on her. Further, now that she knew they were coming from Adrien, it made them even more laughable. She doubted Gabriel Agreste would approve of such silliness coming from his son’s mouth, which was all the more reason to encourage the behavior. Marinette was regretting spending so much time over the last three years complaining about the puns. They were actually kind of clever. 

“Paw-lease,” Ladybug quipped, “That has never stopped you before.” 

She watched as her partner grinned at her, green eyes shining in the fading light. A cool breeze ruffled his already tousled hair. Almost unconsciously, Marinette let bluebell eyes glance downwards to Chat Noir's lips. This wasn’t the first time she had caught herself staring—even before she knew her partner's identity, she hadn’t been immune to his looks and odd charm. However, she never let herself to anything more than look, blocking the feelings from growing further lest Hawk Moth find out. The villain had already used Chat’s admiration for Ladybug against the duo, so the risk of furthering their relationship was very real. 

Ladybug shivered, not just from the chill in the air. The evening shadows fell over Chat Noir’s face, highlighting his elegant cheekbones. When they had started wielding their Miraculous they had been children, now, looking at each other in the twilight, it was apparent how much they had grown. Chat Noir was taller now, lithe muscles emphasized by the tightness of his super suit. 

“You’re cold,” he stated, taking her hand gently.

Ladybug didn’t pull away. Gently, Chat Noir drew her to his chest. 

Her heartbeat thrummed wildly as he leaned down, resting his head atop hers. Slowly he stretched his wings out, enveloping the heroine in his feathers the best he could. The movement was anything but smooth, but Ladybug was patient. She knew better than to give him a hard time. 

“Can’t have Paris’s favorite hero getting ill.”

Hiding her blush in her partner’s chest, Ladybug pushed the topic in a different direction. She pulled away from Chat Noir’s chest, however, quickly deciding against leaving his warm embrace completely. Neither hero was complaining.

“What about you silly kitty? You’ve been out protesting all day, aren’t you cold?” 

Marinette felt that he was fine, the comforting heat he radiated was answering enough. Even though he had been transformed for longer than Ladybug, he was still much warmer than her. His cat abilities were quite the advantage during these cold months. While she knew he wasn’t immune to the cold, his suit did a lot better job at protecting him. 

The cat hero mused, “Is that already being talked about?” 

Guilt threatened to drown her as she remembered that Chat did not know her identity. In his mind, Ladybug had not been at the protest. 

The hero pushed away. Crystal blue eyes clouding with conflicting emotions. She had to tell him, but she didn’t know-how. After being a stickler on the importance of keeping their identities a secret, it felt strange to go against it now. Even if the circumstances made it wrong to keep it hidden. It wasn’t fair to her partner. 

Chat Noir shot her a confused look but let her go. She crossed the roof, gazing over the city as the last streaks of golden light left the sky. It was her responsibility to protect Paris. No matter her personal feelings about her partner, she had to put her duty first. The heroine bit her lip. Now that Ladybug knew Chat’s identity, she was a liability. If Hawk Moth succeeded in creating an Akuma that was able to expose their secrets, she wouldn’t be able to keep it to herself. It was a danger of working with ancient magic. 

But, it was stupid to keep hiding behind her mask now. Ladybug and Chat Noir were partners. Most of Paris had assumed that they knew each other’s identity, and Hawk Moth had yet to change his tactics. Chat Noir moved to stand next to her. The city of love stretched out before them, lights shining brighter the darker it got. Ladybug tried to find the words, but fear made her tongue feel heavy. 

Behind the mask, she was only Marinette. How would Adrien feel to know that his partner was plain and boring? 

“Ladybug? Shall we start parol?” 

Turning to her partner, Ladybug put on a brave face. Her insecurities would not ruin tonight. Chat Noir deserved better, especially with the events of the past few days. 

“Right, yes,” she shook her head slightly, “Let’s start on the outside and work our way back here.”

Depending on what time they met for patrol, they had different routes. Since the sun was still slipping behind the horizon, Ladybug wanted to hit the outskirts of Paris first. While the city was lit fairly well, the further away from the famous monuments the harder it was to see. Of course, Chat Noir had night vision, so it was not an issue for him, but Ladybug did not have that advantage. 

Mentally she recalled a map of the city in her head. Each section of Paris was broken up into an arrondissement which gradually spiraled smaller as one got closer to the center. The Louvre, where they stood now, was a part of the first arrondissement, but they had nineteen others to cover before it got too late. In her opinion, it was easiest to start at the twentieth arrondissement and work their way inwards. As if reading her thoughts, Chat Noir challenged, 

“Race you the twentieth arr.” 

The twinkle in his eyes was too contagious to resist. Any fears she had been harboring going into the patrol lightened. While she knew she would have to deal with the identity issue eventually, it could wait. Besides, it would do them both good to have some fun. 

“You’re on, kitty.” 

He immediately leaped off the building, having readied his baton before issuing the challenge. Laughing, Ladybug grabbed the yo-yo on her waist and swung into the night. The pair flew across the city, one after the other. Notre Dame passed by in a blur. The tourists gathered at the monument cheered seeing the heroes soaring above them. Focused on their goal, they did not stop, however, they did wave appropriately. 

Leaving the church behind her, Ladybug swung over the Seine effortlessly. The red-clad hero had the advantage over this route. Chat Noir’s baton kept up with her yo-yo but was put at a disadvantage when there wasn’t any solid ground to launch off of. She paused for a moment on a rooftop, watching her partner launch himself over the body of water. His muscles rippled powerfully beneath his suit. As if sensing her eyes on him, he smirked, using her hesitation to vault into the lead. 

The heroine stuck her tongue out at her partner as he glanced back at her, laughing playfully as he shot off into the night. Ladybug swung faster. Not bothering to land on rooftops before using the momentum of her swinging to propel her body forward. She caught up to Chat Noir, far quicker than she anticipated, slowing a little so they could be evenly matched. Glancing to her partner she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of concern. Usually, he gave her a run for her money when they raced. Although they hadn’t done the activity for a while, surely not much would have changed. 

Frowning she swung around the Place de la Bastille, Chat falling further behind. Now she was definitely concerned. She landed next to him as he finished his vault, noticing that he was practically panting from the activity. 

“Chat Noir, are you okay?” 

Retracting his baton he prepared for another jump, “Sorry LB! Can’t hear you over the sound of my victory.” 

He pulled ahead sloppily. Ladybug watched him go for a moment before following. He was lacking the usual precision that usually accompanied his movements. Chat Noir may have been silly at times, but he wasn’t sloppy. Staying even with his pace, Ladybug kept an eye out for him, worry worming its way into her heart. 

What was wrong?

His behavior reminded her of how he had acted during the Akuma attack as Adrien: winded, and unsteady. The excuse he had given Marinette was that he hadn’t eaten enough for breakfast. However, surely he wasn’t patrolling on an empty stomach… was he?

As they crossed into the twentieth arrondissement he slowed further, barely making it over the Père Lachaise Cemetery. Ladybug swooped in to catch him but he extended his staff at the last moment, launching himself over the snow-covered grounds. The pair landed atop a nearby hotel, breath billowing out in clouds. They were both warm now. 

The repurposed industrial buildings shone with charming grunge. Golden street lights illuminated the cracked sidewalk. Graffiti and professional street art alike adorned the walls of the buildings, covering the whole area with bright colors. While in the daylight it was pretty, but at night, the twisting art looked menacing. Ladybug swallowed, wishing for Chat Noir’s night vision. 

Chat Noir panted, “I won,” 

“Only cause you distracted me twice.” 

She tried to joke but the statement came out flat. Chat Noir’s ears pointed towards her, confusion written on his features. Tail flicking behind him, the cat hero pulled at the protest wristbands anxiously. Ladybug’s breath caught in her throat as she watched him, reminded again of how she knew his identity and he didn’t know hers. 

“Chaton…I ha—” 

Suddenly, there was a crash from a nearby alleyway. Ladybug cursed her luck, but quickly pushed her thoughts aside as a strangled yelp soon followed. Someone was in trouble. 

The superhero duo made eye contact, silent understanding passing between them. Chat moved first, soundlessly stalking across the roof to peer into the alley below. His wings blended into the shadows, rendering him almost invisible. The sliver of moon provided just enough light for Ladybug to make out the twitching beckoning of her partner’s tail.

She followed him. 

They had to be cautious. Since this wasn’t an Akuma attack, they couldn’t rely on Ladybug’s miraculous cure to fix any of their mistakes. The ancient magic couldn't help them now. As she approached, Chat Noir closed his wings, making room for Ladybug next to him. He balanced perfectly on the ledge, eyes focused on the scene below. 

Squinting, Ladybug tried to make out what was happening in the shadows. A figure appeared to be hunched on the ground, based on the sheer size of the blob Ladybug assumed it was a man. She turned to her partner with a question in her eyes. 

Whispering Chat explained, “I think we just missed a mugging.” 

Ladybug sighed. If they couldn’t stop the crime, at least they could help the victim. 

“Let’s take a look.” 

Nodding in confirmation Chat Noir followed his Lady into the alley. She opened her yo-yo, activating a flashlight inside of it. Immediately the heroine relaxed, feeling more comfortable with the increased visibility. 

“Who’s there?” The man called defensively. Staggering to a standing position, he pressed one hand to his side, squinting against the light. 

“I’m Ladybug,” she lowered the flashlight so as not to blind him, “And this is my partner Chat Noir. Are you hurt?”

The stranger's expression changed. Now that Ladybug was closer, she could make out the beads of sweat that ran down his face. The liquid reflected against her yo-yo’s light, making the man appear pale. The cold night air did nothing to slow the profuse liquid pouring from his forehead. The heroine wrinkled her nose. It was not the most sightly of appearances. 

The man’s brown eyes shifted wildly between the pair, sizing the teen heroes up. He seemed to be determining if they were threats. While his gaze lingered on Chat Noir, Ladybug noticed a trickle of blood stemming from above the man’s hairline. Guilt quickly replaced any repulsion she had felt for the man’s appearance. He had been attacked. She was being too harsh. He must have panicked, after all, not everyone had the reassurance that they could magically turn into a superhero when they were in trouble. 

He stumbled forward, realization edging across his features, “Ladybug! Thank God you’re here! A man was chasing this winged girl!” 

The red-clad hero felt more than saw her partner stiffen next to her. In her peripheral vision, she saw his pupils turn to slits. The black wings on his back puffed up like hackles on a cat—very fitting for Chat Noir. He was probably thinking about the little winged girl he had met at the protest. 

Turning back to the man, Ladybug raised her eyebrow, “Where did she go?” 

“She ran off when I confronted the man,” the stranger sniffled, wiping his face on his jacket sleeve. Ladybug hid her grimace by prompting him to continue. 

“I got him in the shin real good, but he socked me in the stomach and escaped,” Voice changing, the man added, “I just hope she made it.” 

Ladybug turned to Chat Noir. With her eyes off the man, she missed the way his eyes darted unnaturally, a smile twitching predatorily. Neither hero noticed as he reached his hand into his pocket, meaty hands closing around the object inside. 

The cat hero’s jaw set with determination, “He can’t have gotten far.” 

“Which way did they go?” 

“Towards Parc de Belleville,” The man let out a cough, making Chat Noir repeat his partner’s earlier question. 

“Are you hurt?” 

The man bowled over, concealing his hidden hand with the action. He began hacking like a mad man, concerning the superhero duo. The cat hero moved, patting the stranger’s back as he gasped for air. With his other hand, he slid his baton into its oxygen mask setting, thankful for the function not only working when they did aquatic missions. 

“Breathe through this,” He commanded. The stranger grabbed the hero’s arm, directing the baton to his mouth. His grip was rough around the hero’s forearm. Adrien cringed at the touch, forcing his brain not to think about the uncomfortable sensation. 

Ladybug slipped her yo-yo flashlight into a communicator, leaving them in darkness. 

“I’m calling 211,” she paused, addressing the operator in quick french. Then turning back to Chat, “Will you be okay if I scout the area and see if I can find the girl?” 

Tail flicking towards the man that held his arm and baton in a death grip, Chat Noir sighed, “I don’t think we are going anywhere soon.” 

Nodding, Ladybug readied herself to swing back up to the rooftops. Chat watched her go, noticing with relief that the man seemed to be breathing easier with the help of the mouthpiece. He released Chat’s arm, slouching back onto the wall behind him. Now breathing on his own he addressed the cat, 

“Thank you.” 

“Of course,” the hero rubbed his forearm casually, willing away the phantom sensation of the stranger's grip. They fell into silence, every few moments punctuated by the man’s coughing. The hero handed the man his baton, not wanting to be grabbed like that again. 

“I hear you’re becoming quite the activist.” 

Internally groaning at the prospect of small talk, Chat Noir gazed out into the dark alley. His night vision tinted the view in a hazy green. While he stood next to the man, he couldn't help but get the feeling he was being watched. The feathers on his back refused to lay flat, making them appear even messier than usual. 

“I am trying to stand up for what’s right,” he answered simply. Privately he wished that the ambulance would hurry up and reach their location, but the universe seemed to have other plans. 

The stranger snorted. Chat Noir turned back to him, unable to recognize the emotion that smoldered in his eyes. 

“Shame.” 

The hero frowned, “Excuse me?” 

The man shrugged, turning away from the hero with a sneer. He returned the baton to his mouth effectively excusing him from answering. 

Unease settled beneath Chat Noir’s breastbone. That was a red flag. 

“Where did he hit you again?” 

Chat Noir kept his tone neutral, hoping he didn’t come off as cold. The blood that dripped down the man’s forehead was now dry, as was his profuse sweating, but with his enhanced senses, Chat Noir could still smell the lingering body odor. Nose wrinkling in the dark, the hero watched as the man pulled the baton away from his mouth. 

“She socked me right upside of the head,” 

Chat frowned. That wasn’t right.

Not five minutes ago the stranger had said that the man had hit him in the stomach. 

“I thought you said he hit you in the stomach…” 

Wait, had the man said she? 

Realization flashed across the hero’s features at the same time a fist collided with his face. Pain blossomed across his jaw, teeth-rattling with the impact. The hero stayed standing, wobbling backward with surprise. He spat onto the pavement, not surprised when his saliva was tinged with the metallic red of blood. The hero shook his head, trying to get his bearings. 

“You were the man chasing the girl,” he hissed. 

The stranger let out a low chuckle, “I guess I let the cat out of the bag.” 

Advancing on the hero again the stranger swung his fist barley missing Chat Noir as he dodged. On autopilot the hero reached behind him for his baton, remembering a second too late that the man still had it. In the split second of hesitation, the larger man knocked him in the stomach, sending him falling backward. 

The hero yelped as his wings worked to right him. Time seemed to move in slow motion. Although the fall was nothing compared to the Eiffel Tower, the fear that seized his throat was the same. He was falling, and this time there was no Ladybug to save him. 

The pitiful flaps were quickly stopped as the hero’s back hit the ground. Pain shot up his back, making him see stars. His wings bucked underneath him on their own accord, protesting against being squashed into the ground. A mess of limbs and feathers, Chat Noir rolled over gasping in pain. Scrambling backward on all fours, the hero felt his suit catch against the uneven pavement. Even the street was working against him. 

“Not so high and mighty without this now are we?” 

Chat Noir glanced up at the man, growling as he twirled the baton in his fingertips, “Why are you doing this?” 

The stranger pocketed the baton, smirking devilishly at the hero on the ground. He had cornered the hero with a dead-end knowing that Chat Noir couldn’t escape without his baton. The power he felt was intoxicating. With a simple lie, he had used the naïve superheroes of Paris to his advantage. Now he was going to get away with his crime, even if he had to dispose of Chat Noir to do it. 

“You winged scum think you’re so special, with your protests and your snowflake mentality. News flash! No one gives a shit about the supposed struggles you've faced because you have wings! You guys got your citizenship and a right to vote, get over it!”

Adrien blinked in shock. This man was serious. 

“It was almost too easy to get you alone,” the stranger cracked his knuckles, “Someone has to put you back in your place. Go back to standing behind Ladybug, it’s all you will ever be good for.” 

“Why do you care?” Adrien spat, ears flattening against his blond locks. Heart hammering, he scanned the alley for a way out. The man seemed to grow larger, puffing out his chest like a pufferfish. Fighting his instincts, Chat Noir forced himself to fold his wings. He couldn’t this civilian know he was intimidated. 

Laughing maniacally, the man watched as the hero slowly pushed himself to his feet. If he could help it, he didn’t want to engage the civilian. The man was clearly delusional in his ideals. Watching him warily, Chat Noir suppressed a flinch as the man took a step closer. 

“Don’t you get it?” the stranger wheezed, “If the winged scum saw you up on your high horse they are going to get the wrong idea.”

The man continued with his explanation, taking another step forward. Chat stood his ground, ignoring the steady throbbing of his jaw. The man’s eyes glinted in the dark, adding to his villain-like persona. He eyed the wings on the hero’s back, licking his lips. Chat Noir recognized that look. 

This man was hungry for violence. 

Forcing down the panic that suddenly gripped his lungs, the hero resolved to stall as long as possible. Eventually, Ladybug would come back, or the ambulance would show up, but all he had to do was keep the man talking. 

Eyes flashing with fake confidence Chat Noir spoke, “What idea would that be?” 

The stranger clenched his fist, making his opponent stiffen. 

“For centuries the natural order of the world has been with the likes of you at the bottom. My ancestors changed their government for you. But were you satisfied? No! France was left in shambles! We had to rebuild everything we lost because of your kind!”

Chat Noir resisted the urge to roll his eyes. People could be so obtuse. 

“Now it's happening again! With the damn protests and the violence, you are going to destroy us all. It’s up to the truly normal people to put you—you impure mutants back where you belong!” 

“Is that really what you think?” The hero pushed, “Are you so afraid of people like me that you feel the need to resort to violence?” 

The villain scoffed, “I’m not afraid of you.” 

A low growl escaped the hero’s throat. 

The sound surprised him. Adrien had heard Plagg make the noise a few times when he had threatened to take away his precious camembert, but it hadn’t seemed as threatening then. Now, it cut through the silence like a knife, making the man in front of him take a defensive position. Malicious intent glinted in his eyes like angry fires.

Swallowing, Chat Noir readied himself for an attack. 

The only way out was to fight. 

The man launched himself forward with a burst of power. Chat Noir swerved out of the way just in time, avoiding a body slam by a whisker. The stranger turned quickly, but not fast enough to avoid a punch from Chat Noir. Although hand to hand combat was not his best skill, the hero was able to hold his own. The black cat silently hoped luck was on his side tonight. 

He raised his fists, eyes scanning his opponent for openings in his defense. Time seemed to stretch longer. Neither man moved as they stared each other down. With his heavy muscles, the stranger would have a hard time keeping up with Chat Noir’s speed. As long as the hero managed to stay one step ahead, he could win. 

Tail lashing the hero darted forward, faking to the right while throwing his power behind a left hook. The large man grunted, staggering slightly as Chat Noir managed to hit his bulk with a satisfying thwack. Ducking back out of range, the hero smirked, earning a scowl from his opponent. 

“Stupid Bir—”

Anger fueled the punch that cut off the man’s slur. As his fist collided with his opponent's jaw he felt the bubbling of destructive power flow through his veins. It would be so easy to use his Cataclysm to end this fight but the hero quickly shoved that thought away. Cataclysm was not on the table, even if this man deserved it. 

In his haste to take out his anger, however, Chat Noir failed to protect himself from another blow to his chest. Air shot out of him as the man’s elbow collided with his diaphragm. Gasping he stumbled backward, curling over on himself protectively. 

“Let’s see how this works.” 

The man extended Chat Noir’s baton, swinging it experimentally. The man gripped the staff like a bat, swinging it low at the hero’s knees. Without thinking Chat jumped, tucking his legs upwards to avoid being hit by his own staff. As soon as his feet landed back onto the pavement, he bolted forward, trying to knock the staff out of the other man’s hands. 

The man cried out as Chat Noir made contact with his wrist. Using his momentum from the lunge he pushed the man’s arm backward. With his grip on the staff loosened, the stranger tossed it down the alley away from the cat, using his elbow to knock into his chest once again. More prepared for the impact this time, Chat Noir didn’t let the blow wind him. A sharp intake of breath was the only satisfaction he allowed the stranger. The hero pushed onward, sweeping his legs underneath the man. 

His hulking body crashed into the pavement with a thud. The man didn’t move. 

Chat Noir huffed, standing over the man. As the fight ended, adrenaline released its hold on the hero’s brain. The emptiness of his stomach crashed over the teen hero like a wave. He could scarcely hear over the pounding of blood in his ears. It roared, bringing dizzying lightheadedness in its wake. The black cat cursed, as black dots danced threateningly across his vision. His body begged him to stop moving, even if just for a moment, but he pushed onwards. He had to find his baton. He had to call Ladybug. 

Blinking hard the black cat stumbled to the back of the alley where his staff laid discarded. He bent down to pick it up, pausing to wait for another wave of lightheadedness to pass. Exhaling from his mouth, he grasped the baton with shaky hands. 

The waves had started small after he challenged Ladybug to a race. In retrospect, it was a stupid decision, especially when he knew he was running on virtually nothing. However, seeing how his Lady’s face had lit up as they soared over the Parisian rooftops made it worthwhile. She had been so happy. 

Fumbling to switch the baton into its communicator mode he didn’t hear the stirring behind him. The communicator rang once. Chat Noir stood, waiting. 

It was stupid to turn his back on the enemy. 

After the lying game the man had played in the beginning, the hero really should have seen it coming. Maybe if he had returned to the Agreste Mansion before heading out for patrol his brain would have been sharper, not distracted by low blood sugar. Maybe if he had been a little more cautious about how quickly the man had gone down, then he would have been more prepared. 

Regardless, Chat Noir didn’t hear the man sneaking up behind him. 

The communicator rang again. He sighed, Ladybug was probably mid-swing and unable to answer right away. Even if he wasn’t able to get ahold of his partner, the ambulance would be here soon. The hero brought his hand up to close the communicator but was stopped as his wings were suddenly crushed into his back. 

Pain shot down his spine. The emptiness in his stomach suddenly seemed preferable to the spiking discomfort that sprung out of nowhere. Struggling in the tight, overpowering grip, Chat Noir began to panic. This was not supposed to happen. He was not supposed to feel trapped as a hero. 

He trashed in his attacker’s arms making the pain in his back scream even more intensely. 

A knife snaked up to his throat. 

Chat Noir froze. 

The cold metal ghosted over his windpipe, thwarting any hope he had at fighting the attacker off unscathed. The attacker laughed. Chat could feel his warm breath on the back of his neck, causing goosebumps to spring up across his skin. 

“Calling for help?” the man taunted in a husky voice. 

The communicator rang, an incoming call from Ladybug flashing across the tiny screen. Chat made no move to answer it, knowing that if he didn’t, Ladybug would know something was wrong. 

“Answer it,” the man ordered, seeming to read his thoughts. He added, pressing the knife into the pale skin on the teen’s neck. His grip on the teen hero seemed to get tighter, making Adrien painfully aware of how little control he had in this situation.

“Any funny business and I’ll make sure you never speak to her again.” 

Hesitating, Chat Noir slid the communicator open, “Hello Ladybug…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I guess you could say Chat is in quite the purr-dicament.


	13. Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug discovers the victimized girl and finds out some disturbing truths about the man she and Chat Noir encountered. Worried for her partner's safety, she rushes to his side, only to find him caught in a battle for his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS  
> \- mild violence  
> \- mentions of blood

Ladybug stood atop a building. Behind her, the grounds of Parc de Belleville stood barren, foliage stripped for the winter. The empty trees loomed overhead like spindly fingers, reaching for the half-moon in the cloudless sky. Maybe if she had the time, the heroine would have taken the time to appreciate the scene for its eerie beauty, but her focus was on other matters. 

Blue eyes straining into the shadows, the hero continued her search for the girl. It had been slow work, checking the many offshoots of alleyways, especially when she could hardly see in the dark. Letting out a huff of exasperation, her bangs fluttered upwards. 

The streets were practically empty. 

Below her, drunken laughter filled the night sky as two Parisians stumbled into a taxi cab. The hero glanced down, watching the glow of the trendy bar spill out into the street. The fine layer of snow that covered the ground had been shoveled away, revealing the cobblestone pavement underneath. In the warm bar light, it turned yellow. The Parisians still inside shut the door quickly, blocking out the winter chill. She didn’t blame them. The cold bit like a snake, seeping to her bones. 

Ladybug shivered. The cab drove away, leaving the arrondissement blanketed in quiet. Even with the nightlife going on inside the buildings, the neighborhood looked sleepy, unassuming. The hero frowned. Hidden in the icy streets, there was a girl who was scared for her life, running from a man who wanted to do unspeakable things to her.  
She had to keep looking.

Readying her yoyo, she prepared to zip back towards Chat Noir. She resolved to retrace her steps. The girl couldn’t have gotten far, even if she had decided to fly, she couldn’t do it for long; had she been caught she would be arrested for flying past curfew. Ladybug scowled. The man would probably get away scot-free if that happened. 

Taking her eyes off the ground, Ladybug tossed her yo-yo across the rooftops. In a graceful leap, she was soaring back the way she came. It would have been fun if it hadn’t been for the swirling unease settling in her belly. She should have found the girl by now. Even with her reduced visibility at night, she was being thorough. 

Angling her trajectory so she would hit different parts of the city, Ladybug leaped into the night. Maybe the girl had changed directions, going further away from the city’s center instead of parallel to it. Wind blowing her bangs backward, Marinette tried to ignore the growing frigidness of the air. After she and Chat got this all sorted out, she could hardly wait to snuggle back into her bed.

As she paused on a tiled roof, a motion-activated light flashed below her. Briefly illuminated, the vibrant colors of graffiti pierced through the monotonous grey of winter. Reds, yellows, and greens flashed like a beacon of hope.

Someone was down there. 

Ladybug spun on her heels, almost losing her footing on the icy rooftop. Undeterred, the heroine used the momentum to slide behind the building, landing with a soft thud and reactivating the motion light. Yo-yo in hand, she took a step towards the doorway. Each movement forward was enunciated by a soft crunch of snow, unlike chat her Ladybug abilities did nothing to increase her stealth. 

Just as she was about to reach the alcove where the door cut into the building, a rat scampered across the space. Reeling back in disgust she tossed her yo-yo, letting out a small ‘meep,’ much to her embarrassment. Her weapon landed in the snow moments after the rodent disappeared behind a discarded trash bin. Pressing her fingers to her temple in exasperation, she groaned. 

“I cannot believe I stopped my search for a stupid rat.” 

Retrieving her yo-yo, she was about to zip back up to the roof when a sniffle caught her attention. Crouched in the doorway there was a girl. Ladybug paused, 

“Hello? Are you alright Mademoiselle?” 

The girl started as if just realizing she wasn’t alone in the alley. Her round eyes shot up in fear, as she clutched tighter to the jacket around her shoulders. While she was dressed nicely, her outfit was askew, as if she had put it on in a hurry—or someone had tried to take it off. 

Marinette fought to keep her anger off her face as the girl’s eyes fell on her. In the light, the hero could see the dark rivulets of tear-filled eyeliner that streamed down her cheeks. 

“L-Ladybug?” she said hoarsely. Her voice was raw from crying. 

Moving cautiously the hero nodded, “That’s me. What’s your name?” 

“Simone,” the girl sniffed again.

Using one of her sleeves she wiped her nose. Simone looked up at the hero sharply, as if daring Ladybug to comment on the state she was in. The fear that had shown in the girl’s eyes had been replaced with guarded suspicion. 

“Nice to meet you, Simone,” Ladybug got closer, practically sighing in relief to see that Simone had stopped inching away, “Can I ask what you’re doing hiding in this doorway?”

The girl turned away shamefully, no longer willing to meet Ladybug’s eyes. Another tear slipped down her cheek, but she made no move to wipe it away. For a moment, the hero was struck as to how young Simone looked. She couldn’t have been much older than Marinette, herself. Ladybug wished she could Lucky Charm a tissue for her, but sadly that wasn’t how her miraculous worked. 

Seeming to snap out of her daze, Simone set her jaw with determination. Her grey eyes found Marinette’s with an unreadable emotion. 

“I was just out for a fun night.” 

Ladybug sighed. Clearly, she needed to try a different way if she wanted to get anything out of Simone. 

“Maybe you can help me?” When the girl didn’t immediately shut her down Ladybug pushed, “I am looking for a girl who might be running from a man, have you seen anything?” 

Simone stiffened, “Is she in trouble?” 

“No! Not at all! We just wanted to make sure she is okay…” 

The girls stood in silence. Ladybug let it stretch out, hoping Simone would be the one to break it. The hero did not have to wait long before the girl burst into a fresh set of tears. 

“I’m so sorry!” She blubbered, “Things were going so well, but then he saw my wing binder and I thought he wanted...” 

Without much warning she latched onto Ladybug, crying onto the hero’s shoulder. Marinette awkwardly reached her hand up to pat the top of Simone’s head. It wasn’t that she was opposed to the hug, it was just unexpected. A few moments ago the girl had been cowering in fear, and now she was clinging to Ladybug like she was a lifeline. 

“He said he would make me pure, and I thought he was going to offer me something fun and different but then he took me out back and tried to...” Simone hiccuped. 

Ladybug shushed her, returning the hug that Simone seemed to need. 

“It’s okay… you’re safe, you got away.” 

Thank God that man from earlier had been there. Simone didn’t go into specifics, but Ladybug could put it together. She was going to find the man that did this and make him pay. No one should ever have to go through that. 

“Let me take you home,” Ladybug offered. 

The hero was relieved when the girl nodded yes. Marinette couldn’t in good conscience leave her here in the cold, especially with what she has gone through that night. 

“My sister has an apartment on Nouvelle Rue,” Simone shivered, “Can you take me there?” 

Ladybug nodded, “Climb on my back.” 

Simone wrapped her arms around Ladybug’s shoulders as she jumped onto her back. With her super-strength, it was an easy lift, but she knew she had Tikki to thank for that. There was no way Marinette could do this normally, even if she was stronger than most from being a hero.

“Hold on tight!” Ladybug threw her yo-yo upwards, pulling them up to the rooftop. Simone gasped behind her, tightening her grip. The city stretched out in front of them, glowing like a guiding light. The Eiffel tower poked into the sky, piercing through the dark sky. Knowing this would probably be the first and last time Simone would see the city from this angle, Ladybug lingered a moment longer than she needed to. Even though the heroine couldn’t see the girl that clung to her back, she didn’t doubt Simone was awestruck. Turning away from the famous skyline Ladybug zipped to the girl’s apartment. 

It was much slower than Ladybug would have liked. 

The hero had to be extra careful now that she had a civilian hanging on. Every so often she would pause to let Simone readjust so she wouldn't slip. It was an awkward way to transport two people, but Marinette managed. Eventually, they made it to the building. 

“Thank you, Ladybug,” the girl stepped away from the hero. Then, after a moment's hesitation, she added, “Just so you know, I didn’t want to hurt him but I had to get away.” 

Ladybug pulled her brows together in confusion. This part of the story didn’t match up with what she had heard before. 

“What do you mean? Wasn’t there another man there to help you?”

Simone sniffled again, eyes becoming watery. As the other girl composed herself theories swarmed Marinette’s mind. Was Simone confused? Was she lying? Was the man? 

“I don’t think there was another man… I hit him with my beer bottle and he was so angry. But he had pulled a knife on me and I was really scared,” she hugged herself tightly, “I thought he was gonna try to cut my wings off.” 

Ladybug blinked, she really hoped she had misheard what Simone had just told her, “What?” 

Simone shuddered, “When he saw my binder, he said he could make me feel reborn give me a second chance. I didn’t realize what he meant until he was holding a knife to my feathers, and talking crazily about how humans were never meant to have wings.”

“Did you hit him in the head?” 

The heroine prayed that the answer was no. 

“Yes,” Simone but her lip, “I think it cut him a little, but I was more worried about getting away.” 

Ladybug’s heart stopped. 

The man she had left with Chat Noir had a cut on his head. Simone had said he had fended off her attacker alone, which didn’t corroborate the man’s story at all. The man said he was protecting a winged girl. Simone said he had tried to… 

She was going to be sick.

Simone’s voice cut through the panic, “Is everything okay?” 

Ladybug’s body was moving faster than her mind. She redied her yo-yo, attaching it to a nearby lamp post so she could propel herself onto the roof once more. By the time her brain processed Simone’s question, she was about to jump into the night. 

Not thinking about the consequences of answering honestly, Ladybug blurted, “Chat Noir is in trouble.” 

Simone stepped back. She was home, she was safe. Ladybug had done her duty. Sparing the girl a grateful glance, Ladybug swung forward, moving even faster than she had during their race. The city blurred around her, taking on blob-shapes in her haste. She had to get back to Chat Noir. 

Mid swing, the hero’s communicator rang. 

She skidded to a stop on the next rooftop. A fine layer of snow had been melted and refrozen into ice, making the surface slick under her feet. She stumbled, catching herself before she could fall further. Her communicator had stopped ringing, but she didn’t have to check it to know the call had been from Chat. Sliding the compact open she called her partner back, not allowing her mind to ruminate on why he had cut off the communication. 

“Chat Noir?” 

There was a beat of silence. Not unnatural for the cat hero. 

Ladybug forced herself to remain calm. She could not afford to jump to conclusions. The wind picked up, teasing the ribbons that held her pigtails in place. A scuffle came across the line, it sounded like Chat Noir was adjusting his communicator. It hit against something, the sound reverberating into the microphone. It sounded a lot like the metal on metal clinking. Ladybug had come to associate that noise with Chat battling a sword-armed akuma. Dread filled her stomach. 

“Hey, Ladybug.”

She paled. He never called her Ladybug. 

“Is everything okay, kitty?” 

“Of course,” he drawled.

While she knew the tone was meant to placate her worries, it only made them worse. His voice was too flat. The partner she knew would have used a nickname to address her or crack some awful put about being “paw-sitively” great. Something was wrong. Even if Simone hadn’t revealed what had happened to her, Ladybug would have noticed. 

Another moment of silence passed. The unease in the heroine’s stomach grew heavy, urging her to keep Chat on the phone. 

“I found the girl and I’m heading back towards you now…”

“NO—”

The end of the word soared upwards into a cat-like squeak as the hero was abruptly cut off. It sounded like a mewl of distress. Ladybug strained her ears, trying to figure out what was going on. The other end of the line was silent, save for Chat’s quiet breathing. 

His voice hitched, “You should make sure the girl gets home safe.” 

“But—”

“See you soon.” 

The call ended. 

Ladybug stared at the spotted communicator in her hands in shock. What was going on? Had the stranger tried to attack Chat? Did the police manage to get there before the man had a chance to try anything? Biting her lip, Ladybug moved as quickly as she could. With every moment she wasn’t at her partner’s side, fear coursed through her. She couldn’t do this without Chat Noir. She had almost lost him a few days ago, and she was not going to let that happen tonight. 

Ladybug flew over where they had found the man. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, but Ladybug felt like it had taken hours. Without another thought, the hero launched herself into the alleyway. Yo-yo spinning aggressively, her eyes fell on her partner. He stood rigid, baton discarded at his feet. At first glance, she thought he was alone, but then the moonlight glinted off the silver blade pressed against his neck. 

“Look who came to collect her pet,” the man chuckled. His eyes were wild, unpredictable. 

Ladybug swallowed, forcing her nerves down. She could not let it cloud her judgment. One wrong move and Paris would lose one of their heroes. Across from her, the man whispered something in Chat Noir’s ear, making him flinch against the knife.

Anger coursed through her veins. How dare he hurt her kitty. 

Eyes shining with indignation, she spat, “He’s not my pet, he’s my partner.” 

The man shrugged, pulling Chat Noir closer to his chest. The cat whined in pain as his wings were crushed. The pitiful mew was cut off by a rough reminder of who was holding the knife. In one quick motion, the man nicked Chat Noir’s chin. A thin line of blood dripped down into the hero’s suit. It took every ounce of self-control Ladybug had to not run to his aid. 

She could not rush into this one. 

It made her ache, watching her kitty be hurt and not being able to do anything about it. Locking eyes with her partner, she saw the clear expression of fear reflected at her. His eyes were blown wide, pupils almost blocking out the green iris completely. The few feathers that poked out against his captor’s hold were puffed wide. She was sure if he had any fur it would be puffed out as well. 

“What do you want?” she asked cautiously. 

This wasn’t an akuma. The chances that the man wanted their miraculous was slim. Maybe if Ladybug could find out what he wanted, she could escape with Chat Noir. 

The man countered, “Isn’t it obvious…’

His wild eyes left Ladybug, instead, watching the edge of his knife as he moved it tauntingly against Chat’s skin. The heroine took a cautious step forwards, stopping when the man’s eyes snapped back to her. Moving his knife back to Chat’s windpipe he threatened, 

“One wrong move and he’s a dead kitty.” 

Ladybug’s eyes darkened, but she made no move forward. Satisfied, the man continued with his explanation. 

“Everything wrong with this world comes from the winged scum.” 

Chat moved minutely, catching Ladybug’s eye. The red-clad hero knew better than to react. Blinking slowly, she kept her attention on his captor. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice anything had changed.

“They have caused us to become impure, and soft, destroying the hierarchies and traditions that real humans worked hard to create.”

Raising an eyebrow Ladybug countered, “Wings have been around for centuries. For as long as there have been non-winged humans there have been winged ones.” 

“You forget the ways of the old world,” the man snarled, pointing an accusatory finger at Ladybug. 

“I may be young but even I can see you weren’t around for this ‘old world’ you speak of,” Ladybug sassed. 

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Chat Noir grin. 

The man cried out, “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” 

And then, Chat brought his elbow to his face.

With his guard distracted, he had let his grip on the hero slip. Using one hand Chat Noir had shoved the knife away from his neck, bringing his elbow up to his captor’s face with a satisfying crack. Chat Noir made contact with the man’s nose, not waiting to see how quickly he recovered before jumping away. He was vaguely aware of the blade slashing outward, catching his forearm as he retreated. Pain sparked up his arm, but the hero ignored it. 

He had to getaway.

Diving to the ground the cat hero scooped up his baton. He scrambled further from the man, moving like prey trying to escape a predator. His brain was moving a million miles a minute. Rushing so quickly, Chat didn’t even try to understand. Waves of emotions crashed over him in a blinding panic.

The last thing Chat Noir wanted was his turbulent emotions taking control. There wasn’t time to be Adrien. Ladybug needed him, he had to get it together. Struggling to navigate the space around him, the hero stumbled, accidentally pressing the wrong button on his communicator. It shot open. 

“Chat! Look out!” Ladybug called, dashing forward a second too late. 

The stranger howled. Not even bothering to wipe his, now bleeding, nose before pouncing after the cat. The man reached the hero first. Tackling him back down to the ground, Ladybug saw the flash of the knife still in his hand. 

No!

Without thinking she spun her yo-yo, wrapping the string around his forearm she yanked as hard as she could. The man flew towards her, but not without a chunk of Chat Noir’s feathers. Her partner let out an aggressive hiss, ears flattening against his head. The blood from his cut had been spread across his cheek, giving him a feral appearance. 

He looked angry but very much alive. However, Ladybug didn’t allow herself time to celebrate. She had a villain to defeat. She retracted the string, tossing him onto the ground with a thud.

“Give up,” She hissed. 

The man smirked, putting his hands up. The hand that still clutched the knife was stained red with blood. A black feather stuck to the sticky liquid. 

It was Chat’s blood.

Ladybug saw red. 

She wasn’t entirely sure how she got the man on the ground, wrapped in her yo-yo, but the next thing she knew Chat was trying to pull her off, pleading in a broken voice for her to stop. 

“Ladybug,” she could tell his throat was tight, “He stopped… please stop.” 

The heroine allowed her partner to stop her rain of fists. As if coming out of a trance she backed away, unsure of whether to be sick to her stomach or proud they had defeated another villain. Still tied in her yo-yo string, the man smirked at her. Between his bloody nose, and the black eye that was already forming, Ladybug’s stomach promptly decided for her. 

The hero retched. 

She had done that. The man had put his hands up. He had surrendered, and she still attacked him. What kind of hero was she? Sure the man had been guilty, but that didn’t justify her actions. She had crossed a line. 

“I’m so sorry,” she said, not sure who she was apologizing to. 

Chat put a hand on her back. Blinking away the wetness that threatened to spill down her cheeks, she looked at him. His expression was unreadable, but she saw the way he was gripping his tail.

She had pushed him to the edge. 

She was supposed to be someone he could rely on for some form of consistency. She was supposed to stay familiar when everything about their duty felt foreign. And she had failed. 

“Chat,” she started. 

The hero shook his head. He moved the hand on her back. Rubbing circles, between her shoulder blades, he slowly drew the tension out of her figure. The fear and disgust she felt were slowly replaced with sadness. Paris called her a hero, but now that she knew the lengths she would go for justice, she wasn’t sure she deserved the purity that was associated with the title. 

A tear fell down her mask onto her cheek. Raising his other hand gently, he wiped it away, ignoring the way the movement caused the cut on his arm sting. A bright flash of red and blue from the street drew them apart. Ladybug handed Chat Noir her yo-yo, moving to go talk to the police and first responders. 

The cat hero watched her go, thankful she hadn’t made him do the explaining. His skin was still crawling from being pressed against the man and he knew he would not be able to get the words right. For the second time that night, he felt exhausted. 

Two ambulanciers and a policeman passed him on their way to the man. Nodding politely they handcuffed the villain, prompting Chat Noir to retract to yo-yo. The man did not resist. If anything, he seemed pleased to be arrested. 

Chat wrinkled his nose in disgust.

Ladybug returned to his side, looking as tired as he felt. 

“Let’s get out of here.” 

He nodded, following Ladybug up to the rooftop. As he vaulted, he tried to ignore how his body protested. The stinging of his left arm and right cheek were pretty easy to ignore, especially when compared to his wings. They throbbed where the man had ripped out his feathers, pulsing with a constant ache. The jarring impact onto the roof did nothing to help his situation, causing him to hiss in pain. 

Ladybug was immediately by his side. The worry that swarmed her stomach returned at full force. Her hands shook, fluttering over his skin like dainty butterflies.

“What’s wrong? Where are you hurt?” she doted. 

Her blue eyes widened in concern when she saw the gash in his costume. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself not to think about what would have happened if she had shown up later. Taking his arm in hers, she traced the wound. Chat tried not to wince. 

“It’s just a scratch.” 

His voice came out much deeper than he intended. It rolled in the back of his throat, sounding almost like a growl. Ladybug met his eyes again. Her expression was unreadable, but he noticed she was worrying her lip between her teeth. Without thinking he reached his hand up, gently pulling her lips away from her nervous bite. His green eyes lingered on the pale pink wondering for a moment if they felt as soft as they looked. 

Ladybug’s breath caught in her throat. Chat’s pupils had stretched thin, regarding her with a gaze so feline the heroine couldn’t help but shiver. She was captured, enamored by his devouring look. He stared. The city behind her reflected flashes of gold in his irises, adding to his allure. 

“Chaton,” she leaned into his touch. 

With her words, his hand left her cheek. Marinette tried not to pout as he shifted his gaze to the skyline behind her. Whatever spell the city of love had cast upon them was now broken. 

“We should get going,” he stated, not meeting her eyes. 

Ladybug felt her features sliding into a frown before the words even left his mouth. She watched as he drew his baton. He extended it, body tensing as he braced for the inevitable pain. 

“Wait!” 

She crossed the icy roof to stand next to him. 

“For once,” she wrapped her arm around his waist, positioning herself so she wouldn’t hurt his wings, “Let me take care of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hopefully you guys are less mad at me after this chapter, hehe  
> much love xoxo 
> 
> On a completely unrelated note, I'm in school again, but I plan to keep my update schedule. This fic shall be finished (and then promptly edited cause I just re-read the first chapter and OOH BOY)


	14. Unmasked Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug brings an injured Chat Noir to the first safe place she can think of, her own room. Secrets are revealed, and wounds are treated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mentions of blood (not graphic)

By the time the superhero duo had made it back to the heart of the city, Ladybug was practically carrying Chat Noir. While he had protested at first, the exhaustion from the day seemed to be catching up with him at record speeds.

Face buried into her shoulder, his position radiated that of trust. The hero had no idea where his partner was taking him, but he did not protest. The soft scent of vanilla and wildflowers tickled his nose, dulling the throbbing of his wounds. He wished he could drown in the comforting aroma. The familiarity teased him, reminding him of a home he so desperately longed for.

As they touched down on another rooftop, Chat swallowed a whimper. Ladybug was trying her best not to jostle him, but there was only so much she could do. The winged hero had already tucked his feathery appendages tight against his back. Even as his tired muscles ached, the cat still preferred it to the ripping pain that shot across his feathers every time his wings moved. At least he had a lot of practice with keeping them still. 

Ladybug gripped his slim waist tighter. Her fingertips dug into his hips, no doubt leaving accidental bruises. 

His whole body hurt.

“We’re almost there kitty…” 

Her tone put him on edge. Adrien couldn’t place the emotion that stirred his partner’s vocal cords, but he had enough sense to recognize it as important. Ignoring his body’s protests, he raised his head. The red spots that adored his partner’s costume swarmed in front of his eyes. Maybe not eating had been a mistake. 

Blinking, he focused his green gaze upon his partner. She tossed her yo-yo with one hand, wrapping the thin black coil around her wrist for extra support before swinging again. Gravity pulled on Chat Noir’s stomach causing his hands to clench against Ladybug’s side. He didn’t think he would ever enjoy the thrill of freefall again, even if it was controlled. 

“Sorry,” Ladybug apologized softly. 

Yanking the string so it would retract, the superhero duo soared upwards, relieving the sensation of falling. Chat breathed out a grateful sigh. When their feet touched down again, the spotted heroine released her hold. 

Chest rising and falling from the exertion she spoke, “We’re here.”

Taking in his surroundings, Chat frowned in confusion. Potted plants surrounded the far wall, making the area seem darker, wilder. Had it been a warmer season, the leaves would have completely obscured the street from view. Without the fairy lights on, the balcony looked different, however, that did not change the fact that Chat knew this place.

“This is Marinette’s house.”

Ladybug bit her lip, nervous, “Yes.” 

The cat hero blinked, pulling at his tail, “We might wake her…” 

“I promise she’s awake,” Ladybug snorted. 

Ears pricking forward, Chat Noir tried to hear any sounds of movement from the room below them. Unsurprisingly, he heard nothing. The cat hero frowned at his partner. It was far too late for any young civilian to be awake. 

“It sounds empty,” Chat countered, “She’s asleep.” 

“She’s not in her room right now,” Ladybug looked at the ground. Her usually pleasantly assertive and confident demeanor was nowhere in sight. 

One of his cat ears flicked on its own accord. Adrien was missing something. He could feel it. While he was not particularly upset about Ladybug not meeting his eyes, he knew that it was out of character for her. Was something wrong? Was she upset with him? Claws catching in the material of his tail, his eyes widened. 

Did she know he had revealed his identity to Marinette? 

Stomach clenching with nerves Chat Noir dropped his tail. Now free from its owner’s clutches, worry sent it into a frenzy. It arched upwards, whipping around behind him. Ladybug glanced up from her inner turmoil. Blue eyes met green so suddenly that it physically hurt. Chat Noir flinched. 

“I’m sorry.” 

He spoke slowly, making sure each syllable got out correctly. The tightness in his throat crept along his jaw, forcing it closed. Before he could stop himself, a muted whimper pushed its way upwards. The pressure in his throat squeezed tightly, cutting off the noise. 

Now it was Ladybug’s turn to be confused, “Kitty? Why? What’s wrong?” 

Adrien shook his head once. His side swept bangs jerked with the movement, falling over his eyes in a wayward fashion. Ladybug moved back to his side. 

The spotted heroine was careful not to touch him more than she had to. With one gloved hand she caught his flicking tail. It stilled as if the part of his costume didn’t have a life of its own. Moving it in front of her partner, she gently pressed it into his hands. 

Chat Noir latched onto the anchor, spotted gloves and all. 

The heroine stifled a gasp, surprised by the sudden pressure around her hands. She made no move to pull away, waiting to see what Chat Noir needed of her. He was always there for her, in battle, and in friendship, she needed to do the same for him. 

After a moment, the iron grip around her hands loosened. Chat Noir shifted onto the balls of his feet, seeming more relaxed than he had been moments before. 

He turned his head away from her, “You’re mad I broke our rule…That’s why we are here… Isn’t it?” 

Ladybug softened her gaze. When she had landed on her terrace, she thought she should break the news of her identity slowly. She wanted to lay the details out to not overwhelm her partner, but her plan had backfired. Now she had caused him discomfort and stress, all because she hadn’t told him the moment she found out. 

The one-sided reveal had gone on for too long. Chat Noir was her equal, the yin to her yang. It was time she treated him as such. 

“I’m not mad at you, kitty...” 

His velvety ear flicked in her direction, showing he was listening. 

“I brought you here because,” She faltered, doubt tripping her tongue. What if he rejected her? Unconsciously, she returned the squeeze to his hands. His green eyes skimmed over the edges of her mask, not quite making direct eye contact, but urging her onwards all the same. 

Breath hitching, she started again, “I brought you here because... I live here.” 

Pupils blown wide, Adrien looked down at their clasped hands. When he spoke, it was like he was afraid the air around them would shatter, 

“Marinette has a secret sister?” 

A beat of silence passed between the two teen heroes. 

“Are you serious right now?” 

“Why would I not be serious?” Adrien’s brow furrowed in confusion, “I mean, Marinette was Multimouse there—”

“Tikki spots off.” 

The shower of pink sparkles that engulfed Ladybug’s body burned brightly against the cat hero's retinas. Blinking away the sudden swarm light his gaze fell on Marinette. A red kwami floated upwards shooting a small smile at Chat Noir. 

“Hello Chat Noir,” Tikki said politely. 

“Tikki,” He gaped, remembering the kwami’s name from when he transformed into Misterbug. He distinctly recalled her being far less dramatic than Plagg. 

The tiny god spun to face Marinette, keeping her face neutral. While she wasn’t thrilled with either side revealing their identities, she still supported Marinette’s decision. Tikki may not be quite as blatant about disregarding the ancient rules as Plagg, but she knew when to let things slide. Out of all her holders, Tikki knew she had every reason to trust Marinette. She was an incredibly powerful Ladybug, especially for being so young. Glancing between her chosen and the still transformed Adrien Agreste, the kwami spoke, 

“I will leave you two to talk.” 

Without waiting for their responses, the kwami phased through the floor into Marinette’s room. 

Adrien’s mouth shifted into a round shape. Now he understood why Plagg joked about him being dense. Chat Noir's self-proclaimed love of his life had been sitting behind him in his classes for the past three years. 

“Surprise?” Marinette scuffed her shoe on the balcony, trying to gauge her partner’s expression. Part of her mind was worried about how Tikki was going to react to the surprise reveal, but she pushed those thoughts away. She wanted to focus on her partner. 

He was uncharacteristically still, however, he had yet to let go of her hand. She held out hope that the gesture was a good sign. 

Adrien opened and closed his mouth once, trying to find the right words. He felt like an idiot for not confirming his suspicions on the day of the Kwami Buster Akuma. He had been so close to finding out on his own, but after seeing Multimouse “accidentally” reveal herself as Marinette, he had assumed he had been wrong. His brain had automatically dismissed the small possibility that they could still be the same person. But that didn’t change the fact that Ladybug and Marinette were the same height, had the same hairstyle, had the same shampoo—not that he was admitting to smelling Marinette’s hair. If only he hadn’t dismissed the coincidences so easily. The teen supposed the magic of the Miraculous had something to do with it. 

“Fox Miraculous?” 

Marinette nodded sheepishly. 

The corners of his mouth twisted up into a wistful smile. Marinette was smart. Of course she was, Marinette was Ladybug. Adrien couldn't hold back the smile that spread across his face. He didn’t want to. 

Visibly relaxing at the quirk of his lips, Marinette shivered. The wind picked up once more, seeming to take advantage of the teen no longer being inside her super suit. 

“Let’s go inside,” she suggested. 

Adrien was not about to protest. While he was still transformed and better at dealing with the cold than his counterpart, he was not particularly enjoying the nip of winter. Not to mention his body still ached. Adrien doubted he would be heading home anytime soon, assuming Marinette wanted him to stay. 

The girl moved to open the latch on her skylight. It swung upwards revealing Marinette’s very pink bedroom. Warmth wafted out from the inside, causing both heroes to sag in relief. The dark-haired girl went in first, pigtails bobbing as she ducked under the window frame. Adrien followed, careful not to hit his wings on the way in. 

When he soundlessly dropped onto her bed she reached across him to shut the door. Her arm brushed against his shoulder, hovering for a moment as she fiddled with the door. It swung down all too soon, latching from the inside with a soft click and drawing Marinette’s contact away. Chat Noir flushed pink under his mask. 

“I can't see a thing in this dark.” 

She crawled across her bed, further wrinkling the striped duvet under her hands and knees. Leaning forward she reached for the switch on her adjustable reading light, huffing when she found it just out of reach. Adrien pointedly avoided using his night vision to look at her as she unintentionally swung her hips in his direction. Flushing darker, he was thankful she couldn't see his face. Marinette flicked the switch, bathing the upper level where her bed sat in warm light. Turning back to Chat Noir she spoke, 

“I’ll grab some first aid supplies from our bathroom downstairs; it will only take a minute.”

Adrien vaguely realized that he was still bleeding a bit from the cut on his cheek. The model grimaced, trying not to think about the trouble he would be in if it scarred. The scratch on his forearm was shallow but would be just as difficult to conceal until it healed. Stretching across the back of his hand and curving just past his wrist it was shallow but obvious. Adrien silently thanked Plagg for making the super-suit take the brunt of the knife’s force. 

Backing down the ladder that connected Marinette’s loft bed to the rest of her room, he made room for her to pass. The teen was once again struck by the comforting atmosphere of her room. He sat on the floor; the same place he had before, while she made her way to the stairs. As soon as her head disappeared, Adrien found himself looking around the room through a new lens. 

The boy smiled, remembering that he was in Ladybug’s room. Ladybug was Marinette. Tail curling happily, the hero released the movements he had been concealing when she had revealed herself. His wrists went limp, hands flapping happily as he looked about. Suddenly the pink seemed brighter, newer. It still held the comforting familiar energy he was used to, however, it seemed even stronger now. He was sure Tikki—wherever she was hidden—could hear the excited purr that curled in the back of his throat, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel embarrassed. 

Two of the most amazing young women in his life turned out to be the same person. Chat Noir was not used to this kind of luck. 

Marinette returned not just with a first aid kit, but also with snacks. As if on cue, Adrien’s stomach rumbled. The pigtailed girl passed him the plate with different fruits and cheeses. 

“Papa is trying new ingredients for macaroons so our fridge is full of different foods,” she added with a chuckle, “Today he tried combining blueberry, lemon, and cream cheese; it was different, but not bad.” 

She popped a blueberry in her mouth, prompting the cat hero to eat as well. Maybe it was Plagg’s influence, but Adrien quickly delved into the cheese, relishing the way the creamy texture felt in his mouth. However, he quickly discovered that chewing caused the cut on his jaw to sting, so he held off on consuming any more of the food. 

Marinette busied herself with the first aid kit. She removed the small bottle of rubbing alcohol, as well as a box of butterfly bandages. Setting them aside, she reached into the box again for some cotton pads. Chat Noir watched her intently, tail flicking comfortably by his side. Once she had retrieved what she needed, she scooted closer to her still transformed partner. 

“Is it okay if I take a look at those,” she gestured towards the cuts on his body. 

Adrien nodded, angling his face away so she would have better access to his cheek. He didn’t have to watch to know she had opened the rubbing alcohol, the pungent odor of the disinfectant made his nose wrinkle. 

“This is going to sting.”

The boy closed his eyes, bracing for the pain. Marinette dabbed at the cut, frowning when her partner inhaled sharply. His shoulders rigid with tension, he waited for Marinette to finish. As much as the disinfectant stung, he knew it was a necessary step. 

“Sorry,” she said, trying to get this part over with as soon as possible. 

The rustling of the packaging caused the teen to open his eyes. Marinette had recapped the rubbing alcohol and was now opening a butterfly bandage to seal the cut. With gentle fingers she pressed the bandage on his face, effectively closing the angry red mark. Seemingly pleased with her handiwork, she dropped her hands into her lap. 

“You should probably detransform so we can see the other cut better…” She trailed off.

“Right,” Adrien felt his heart speed up, suddenly nervous about detransforming in front of Marinette. It was one thing for her to know Chat Noir and Adrien were the same people, it was a whole other thing to show her the vulnerability that came with taking off his mask. He could already feel the uncomfortable squeeze around his chest.

“Plagg,” Adrien hesitated, bracing himself, “Claws in.” 

A green light flashed over his body. The leather catsuit was replaced with the soft material of a long sleeve shirt. It would have been comfortable if the lack of wing slits hadn’t forced him to wear a binder. Hands curling into fists, he felt the material aggravating the already painful injury on his wing. Plagg tumbled out onto the floor slumping dramatically. 

“Seventeen hours of Chat Noir was a little overkill,” Plagg groused, waving a tiny paw in greeting to Marinette before zipping over to the cheese. He guzzled it down, practically finishing the entire plate within a few seconds. While the kwami pretended to be upset, he scanned Adrien for any injuries. Other than the obvious three, which he had felt when they had been transformed, his chosen seemed fine. Letting out a shaky breath of relief, the kwami snapped, 

“Next time you want to spend all day galavanting around the city at least stop to recharge your loving kwami.” 

Plagg floated up to Adrien’s shoulder, nuzzling his uninjured cheek. Whispering so Marinette couldn’t hear he added, “And to take care of yourself, you need some cheese as much as I do.” 

Louder he added, “Now hurry up and strip so Ladybug can look at your wing.” 

Marinette snorted. 

Adrien blushed, suddenly self-conscious, “Plagg… It’s fine.”

As if mocking him for lying, his back throbbed, making the blonde wince. Plagg was right about spending too much time as Chat Noir. While the superpowers worked wonders at keeping Adrien energetic as his superhero self, once the transformation dropped, he felt like he had run a marathon. 

“Nope,” Plagg shrugged, “Not fooling me, Kit.” 

Humming in neither protest nor agreement, the blond pulled absentmindedly at the sleeves of his shirt. Plagg watched as his chosen’s mind drifted. The tension that hadn’t left his shoulders since Marinette had cleaned his first cut began to release. Plagg could tell that he was still in pain, but at least he was beginning to relax. 

The kwami curled on his shoulder, hoping the boy could get a full night of sleep. Exhaustion seemed to be pulling the boy’s every move. While he remained awake, his eyelids drooped, half-lidded, and unfocused. Plagg pricked this tiny claws into Adrien’s shoulder, just enough to bring the boy back to the present conversation. 

“Sorry,” Adrien mumbled, rubbing his face. 

“I’ll turn around if it makes you more comfortable,” Marinette piped in. Adrien turned to her; her face was almost as red as his. 

“O-okay.”

Plagg floated upwards, “Humans are so weird.”

There was no malice in the insult. Plagg looked fondly at Adrien, making sure he understood. 

Adrien rolled his eyes, but smiled back anyway, “Go find Tikki.” 

“She’s probably in the Miracle Box,” Marinette provided, “It’s hidden under the chaise.” 

Plagg nodded. Before he zipped underneath the cushion, he turned back to Adrien. 

“Call me if you need me.” 

It wasn’t a suggestion. The blond nodded. 

With the black cat gone, the teens drifted into silence. Marinette scooted backward, giving Adrien space to remove his shirt and wing binder. 

Once she was fully turned, Adrien slowly pulled the fabric over his head. It was more difficult than he wanted to admit; every movement of his shoulders sent a chain reaction of pain down his back and into his feathers. Had the black feathers not been pressed to his back, Adrien figured they would be trembling on their own accord. Biting the inside of his cheek, the blond swallowed the pain. 

After successfully removing the shirt, he pulled at the straps that pressed his wings to his back. He started with the one over his diaphragm and chest. 

Sweet air filled his lungs as they fully expanded. The boy couldn't help but expel a relieved sigh as the front part of the binder loosened. Even in the few minutes, he had spent with them bound, it was already constricting his breathing. 

The boy looked down at his chest, the slight discoloration of healing bruises stripped where the straps had been. By now most of them had turned a splotchy yellow, making his rips appear more jutted than they were. Adrien couldn’t remember when he had gotten the marks; he wore the device far too often to pinpoint exactly when the bruising had occurred. He knew his back looked worse, but turning to check was not worth the pain. 

Crossing his arms over his chest, he pulled on the straps that curved the top of his wings against his shoulders. Once they were loose enough, he tried shedding the binder off like a jacket but stopped with a hiss of pain. 

“Are you okay?” Marinette asked worriedly. She shifted in her seat but did not turn around. 

Adrien breathed through his nose, “I’m… I’m fine… Yeah.” 

“That was convincing,” Marinette quipped sarcastically. 

The boy ignored her comment, not wanting to spare the brain capacity it would take to determine if she was being sarcastic or not. Usually, he could wriggle out of the device without undoing the strap that crisscrossed his back, but his wing must have been folding abnormally due to the injury. Adrien hoped the damage was not as bad as it felt. 

Slowly he tried reaching around to the back of his binder for the cross straps. Pain shot down his back as he twisted, eliciting another pained hiss. Adrien dropped his arm, breathing through the spike. His back felt like it was on fire, except there was nothing he could do to escape it. The fire was inside of him, burning from within until he was nothing more than a charred husk. 

He wasn’t going to be able to get it off by himself. 

“Marinette,” he squeezed his eyes shut, if it was due to pain or shame he wasn’t sure, “I need help.” 

The boy heard rather than saw the pigtailed girl turn from her spot on the floor. The moment her eyes fell on his battered chest she sucked in a breath. Shame, guilt, and fear tugged on different corners of his mind causing a dull pressure to build up behind his closed lids. 

“Oh, Adrien…” She breathed. 

The boy opened his eyes, feeling incredibly small. Blue eyes weighed heavily on his green ones. 

Marinette looked like she wanted to hug him and simultaneously beat someone up. He had a good idea of who that someone was. After talking about his home life as Chat, it would not have taken his partner long to put two and two together. Even with negative emotions threatening to spill over, Adrien couldn’t help but realize how obvious it had been that she had been Ladybug. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, scooting closer so she could reach. 

Not knowing how to respond, he turned slowly, presenting his back to the girl. 

“I can’t,” His breath hitched as he struggled to control himself. The sporadic movement from his diaphragm caused another wave of pain to flare down his back. A tiny whimper escaped his gritted teeth. 

“It’s okay, kitty,” Marinette stroked his feathers gently, much like she had when he had come a few nights ago. Adrien had half the mind to register that she still called him kitty. 

Speaking softly Marinette continued, “I’m going to take this off, okay?” 

Adrien nodded. Sometime during their conversation, he had slid his ring into the palm of his hand. The boy hadn't even realized he had been squeezing it until now. Glancing down, he realized it left his palms red and blotchy. Darkly, the model figured it was fitting. With the red on his skin from his injuries, the angry circles fit right in. 

Marinette further loosened the wing binder, making the straps hang off of Adrien’s skinny form. 

“I need you to pull your arms though so I can slide it off. Can you do that for me?” 

The boy moved slowly, afraid that any sudden movement would bring a wave of pain. Marinette’s nimble fingers found his wrist, guiding him loosely through the strap. When they had successfully maneuvered out of one side, she started on the other, repeating the process. Adrien felt his face heat up as she slid the binder off his back. She was gently guiding the feathers away from getting caught in the material, working slowly and methodically. 

She paused, “Your wing is bleeding from when that man ripped out your feathers...”

Adrien suppressed a shiver, knowing the movement would only hurt him more. Voice raspy he croaked, “How bad is it?” 

Marinette’s hesitation gave him far too much time to imagine the worst. 

“It’s hard to tell…” 

Shit. 

“Can you open it?” 

Adrien flushed red. It was a simple question, any winged person should be able to open their wings. However, Adrien didn’t know the answer. With every beat from his heart, he could feel the injury pulsing. The pain throbbed. All he wanted to do was curl up and will it away, not open his wing and make it worse. 

Yet, he didn't have a choice. 

Gritting his teeth he began pushing his wings open. Marinette made a sound of surprise as she scooted backward to give him more room. She was used to Alya’s wingspan, not Adrien’s. 

The muscles on his back rippled under his skin, protesting the stretch. His black feather puffed out, seeming as unhappy about having to move as Adrien's back. The boy strained, pushing his wings into a half-expanded shape. That was all he could manage. They refused to go further. 

“That’s all,” Adrien hoped the stain was not audible in his voice but somehow he doubted he would be that lucky. 

Choosing to remain blissfully ignorant he refused to look behind him. Casting a glance at the appendages that drooped like pitiful capital Cs was not the image he wanted to pick apart for the next few hours. Logically, he knew he would have to deal with the damage eventually, however, he couldn't bring himself to look. It was too much. 

Marinette prodded the outstretched wing gently, apologizing profusely when it trembled under her light touches. She spoke as she worked, communicating to Adrien what she was doing. 

“It looks about how you would expect it to look after having a fist full of feathers being yanked out…” 

She paused, “...I should clean it out.” 

Squeezing his miraculous tighter, he tried to focus on the rhythmic cadence of her voice. 

“Do it before I psych myself out.” 

Marinette worked quickly warning him just before she dabbed disinfectant on the raw patch of the wing. Even though he was prepared to feel the sting, he had to bite his tongue to keep from yelling. His wings were much more sensitive than his cheek had been.

Against his brain’s requests, Adrien’s wings bucked, smacking Marinette across the face. The rubbing alcohol spilled into her carpet, making the room smell like a hospital. Adrien turned, wincing noticeably at the movement but not stopping until he made sure he hadn’t hurt his partner. 

“Marinette!” He gasped seeing her sprawled on the floor, “I’m so sorry! It was an accident! I didn’t mean to!” 

“It's okay, kitty,” She sat up, rubbing her cheek but otherwise fine, “Hardly the worst hit I've taken.” 

The teen had meant the comment to come across as a joke, after all, they were both superheroes, but seeing the way Adrien’s face paled, she knew she had missed her mark. His hands flew together, gripping his miraculous ring in his palm.

“I’m supposed to protect you and I hurt you.” 

“Adrien,” Marinette took his hands. When he didn’t protest she slipped the ring back onto his finger and squeezed his hands in hers. The boy wasted no time at the invitation, latching onto her grip as he had on the balcony. She used her thumbs to rub circles across his knuckles, careful not to irritate the shallow cut. 

“Adrien, look at me.” 

His green eyes filled with fear as if he was expecting her to lash out. Regardless, he met her eyes. 

“I am not hurt.” 

Adrien nodded, relaxing a bit as she continued to rub circles on his hands. Marinette was not his father. 

“You do a great job protecting me,” she continued, “But right now, you’re hurt, and I need you to let me take care of you.” 

The blond nodded. Her blue eyes pooled with such sincerity that he felt like he was floating. His senses were completely enthralled with the girl in front of him. In a moment of boldness, he leaned forward, placing a light kiss on her cheek. 

“Thank you.” 

Marinette blinked, stunned for a moment before regaining her composure. Cheeks burning a bright red she released Adrien’s hand, reaching for the gauze wrap that was still inside the discarded first aid kit. The smell of alcohol still lingered in the air, but as it evaporated became more bearable. Scooting on her knees, she gently guided his wing open. With a steady hand, she wrapped the injured portion, trying to leave as many feathers free as she could. 

She leaned back, admiring her handiwork, “It’s the best I can do.” 

“Better than I would have done,” he winced as his wings settled back into place. 

Marinette began tidying up the first aid supplies. As she placed the bottle of rubbing alcohol, now half empty, back into the box, she saw a small bottle of ibuprofen. Glancing to her partner she wasted no time in passing the bottle to him. 

“I can bring some water when I come back from putting this away.” 

Adrien snorted, “Don’t bother.” 

He popped open the lid easily, sliding two tablets onto his palm. Without pausing he tossed then into his mouth, swallowing them both dry. Marinette stared at her partner. 

Shrugging, he elaborated, “You get used to it when you’re taking them in between photoshoots and don't have any water.”

“Adrien,” She furrowed her brow, “That’s kind of messed up. If the pain is always this bad you should tell your father or Nathalie.” 

The blond sighed as if he had been given this lecture many times before. Marinette had no way of knowing she was quoting Plagg verbatim. Adrien sprawled forward onto his stomach, resting his chin on folded arms. 

“I know,” he adjusted his wings so they sat flat on his back, “I just don’t want them to be disappointed.” 

“Why would they be disappointed? It’s not your fault.”

Adrien winced, this time not from the pain in his back. The thought of Nathalie’s stare when he had refused to do his work that morning. It would be that disappointed look from her every day if he was not able to complete his father's wishes. His father always seemed to be disappointed in Adrien, so not much would change on that front, but he couldn’t help but worry about how his father would react. Sure the teen model was almost an adult, but Gabriel still had an iron fist over the majority of Adrien’s life. What would happen if he stopped? 

“Adrien?” 

The boy raised his head, meeting Marinette’s round eyes. Filled with watery concern, they reflected the light from her lamp brightly. When he didn’t answer, the un-transformed hero continued, 

“I saw you at the protest… you were so passionate and strong.” 

“That was Chat Noir,” Adrien huffed. 

“Last I checked, they were the same person.” 

The blond blinked. It was so easy to think of Adrien and Chat as separate, but Marinette was right. They were the same. Chat may have been free of the constraints that held Adrien, but he was just another part of his personality. For so long, Chat Noir had been hiding the parts of himself that would surely label him as Adrien and vice versa. Adrien was a perfect son, and Chat Noir was a pun-loving, unbothered hero. There was no room for overlap. 

But then he had fallen. 

“Sometimes it doesn’t feel that way.” 

Marinette's heart panged with sympathy. She knew how it felt to feel like a superhero identity was completely separate from a civilian form. Back in Collège, she had been incredibly shy, Adrien knew this better than anyone. She couldn't even speak properly around the hot model for years. Getting the earrings had changed her life. 

At first, she had believed that she would never be able to be confident like her superhero persona, but that had been wrong. Once she had stopped thinking of herself as separate, she found that she had the confidence within her all along. It wasn’t something the mask had given her. It just took a realization to bring out. 

“Do you remember Stoneheart?” 

Adrien blinked in confusion, “When Ivan was akumatized?” 

“Yeah…’ Marinette smiled at the memory, “I tried to give my Miraculous to Alya.”

Green eyes seemed to bog out of Adrien’s head. 

“Exactly,” She chuckled, “Now, I can’t imagine not being Ladybug, but then I thought I was the furthest from qualified. Which wasn’t entirely false, but not for the reasons I believed.” 

Marinette looked at her partner earnestly, “When I met you, I was so jealous. You were a natural hero.” 

“Yeah right,” Adrien snorted, “I wouldn’t stop flirting with you long enough to do my job.” 

The dark-haired girl chuckled, “You were pretty bad.” 

“Hey! That’s not the response I was looking for!” 

Adrien tried to say the words seriously but couldn't help but laugh. If going to Collège had taught him anything it was that he was pretty terrible at flirting unless the person happened to like terrible puns, then he was golden, but he supposed practice made perfect. 

“At least you could talk to your crush,” Marinette giggled, “I always said things in the wrong order around you.”

The blond froze, “You had a crush on me?”  
Marinette stopped laughing, “Yeah? I thought you knew… Our whole homeroom knew so I figured it was pretty obvious.” 

Thinking back to all of he and Marinette’s interactions in Collège, Adrien’s eyes widened. All the stuttering she had done around him and no one else. She hadn’t disliked him after all. Quite the opposite. 

“I am an idiot.” 

“I think Alya called it ‘sunshine boy obliviousness’ back in the day.” 

Adrien blushed. 

The two drifted into a comfortable silence for a moment. Marinette scooted over to where Adrien had laid on the floor. Back against her chaise lounge, she stretched her legs out in front of her. 

“You deserved a partner who had the guts to get up and fight,” Marinette sighed, switching back to her original story, “So I thought Alya would be a natural choice.” 

Adrien said nothing, listening intently. 

“But she ran off to film the villain and didn’t even look at the box in her bag.”

“Sounds like Alya,” Adrien snorted.

Marinette nodded in agreement, “I couldn't just stand and do nothing, but I was so scared of messing up again.” 

“Milady,” Adrien started, surprised at how easily the nickname rolled off his tongue. It didn’t even feel wrong to say it when he was untransformed. Blinking he refocused, “You didn’t know you needed to purify the Akuma then, it's not your fault.”

“Chaton,” she chastised with mirth in her eyes, “I know. Now let me finish my story.” 

“Yes Madam,” he teased. 

“Before even really knowing what we were getting into we were Ladybug and Chat Noir. Every day I struggled with that. It was so hard feeling like I had to be this entirely different person when I was transformed.” 

Adrien nodded gravely. 

“But then I realized,” she looked him in the eyes making sure she was listening, “I’m just as much Ladybug as I am Marinette.” 

Smiling, the girl continued, “Nothing was stopping me from being confident as Marinette except my fear. Realizing I didn’t need the mask to ‘be Ladybug’ opened a lot of doors for me. Remember when I first started my design Instagram?” 

“Yeah! It was so cool.” 

“I never would have had the guts if I hadn’t been Ladybug.” 

Adrien nodded, thinking to himself. 

“Adrien,” She hesitated, “I know things may be a little different because you don’t really get a chance to be your complete self as either of your identities…” 

The model snorted in agreement. Adrien hardly lived up to his perfect son headlines just as Chat Noir was not as carefree as he let on. 

“. . .but the person you want to be is not limited to those sides of you.”

She waited for a beat before continuing, “You are allowed to be both.”

The pressure that forced tears into his eyes was back. For once, however, these tears were not those of sadness or anguish. The boy wasn’t entirely sure when the build-up of liquid had started, but before he knew it, he was sniffling as salty drops ran down his face. Reaching a handout, Marinette ruffled his hair, much as they would do as their superhero identities. He smiled through his tears, laughing at his ridiculousness. 

Marinette spoke from her heart and had said exactly what Adrien needed to hear. 

“I know you’re capable of standing up to Gabriel Agreste,” she cupped his cheek, wiping away his tears.  
“But that is something you have to decide.”

Adrien nodded, pushing himself to a sitting position. 

“And when you do, you won’t be alone.” 

Voice turning thick with emotion, she added, “You’ll have me.” 

Now it was Marinette's turn to let the tears fall down her cheeks. Adrien had felt so alone, so powerless, all this time. She needed him to realize that he was important, that his voice mattered. Part of her mind wanted to band together with Plagg and cataclysm the man who had made Adrien think this way. It wasn’t hard to realize who that had been. However, she knew Adrien wouldn't want that. Even though he held the power of destruction, he was the least inclined to use it. Maybe that's what made him such a good Chat Noir. 

Reaching his hand upwards, Adrien brushed Marinette’s bangs out of her face. The blonde leaned in, bringing their bodies closer together. Hearts thrumming like drums the teens hovered inches away from each other. Marinette could feel his breath on her cheek as he asked softly, 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Instead of answering Marinette surged forward, locking their lips in a fluid movement. Slowly Adrien pulled Marinette closer, fingers catching in the ribbons that held her pigtails. They kissed softly, reverent as if the other was a fragile treasure that neither teen wanted to break. Lips mixing with the salt of previously shed tears, Adrien pulled away. 

Marinette let him go, selfishly wishing the kiss had been longer. However, she would never push Adrien. She looked at him in the warm light, smiling when she noticed the pink that tinted his cheeks. 

“Is it okay...” the boy trailed off, suddenly seeming nervous. Marinette grabbed his hand, rubbing reassuring circles once more. The boy smiled. 

“Can I stay? Just for a while longer.”

“Of course,” she leaned back on her chaise. Her partner wasted no time in placing his golden head in her lap. Laying on his side, his black wings splayed on the floor behind him. He nuzzled against her stomach, sighing in content.

Marinette smiled. Even when he wasn’t transformed he was such a cat.

Carding her hands through his hair, she felt the last bits of tension leave his shoulders. At his steady breathing, she found herself relaxing as well. Just as her eyes began to droop he spoke up, 

“I’d totally be purring right now.” 

“Me too, kitty,” she snorted, “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, Comments, and Shares are greatly appreciated !! 
> 
> I'm kinda shook about how far this has come. I really appreciate all of you guys who read! Even though I can write pretty prolifically about Ladybug and Chat Noir lmao, I can't seem to find words that fully express my gratitude to all of you. Thank you so so so much. 
> 
> We have like a solid 6+ chapters left (depending on how much I write). It's crazy to think that this is nearing the end but I'm getting ahead of myself, lol. 
> 
> Hope you have a great day! 
> 
> xoxo  
> creative  
> ( @creatibug on ig )


	15. The Akuma Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After spending the night together, Adrien and Marinette are in for a rude awakening when an Akuma decides to rear its head. Torn between wanting to protect each other and their duty to the city, the teens come to a shaky agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> end note explains my absence

Marinette was drawn out of her dreamless slumber by the vibration of her phone. Shifting, she pulled out the device, rousing her sleeping partner in the process. The pair had been sitting in Marinette’s room, falling asleep on the floor, much to their bodies’ dismay—Marinette had a crick in her neck from her position. 

Adrien lifted his head off of Marinette’s lap, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Using the back of his hand to stifle a yawn, he turned to the dark-haired girl. With the early light of dawn filtering through her windows, her pale skin seemed to glow. He could just make out the light dusting of freckles that stretched across her nose.

“You’re beautiful,” Adrien murmured, voice still heavy from sleep. 

Marinette flushed red, “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

Gazing up at his partner, Adrien flashed an overdramatic model smile. However, Marinette’s laugh soon changed the expression into a sincere one. She pulled her fingers through his blond locks causing the boy to sigh contentedly. Without really trying, they had fallen into the same position they had slept in the previous night. 

Another buzz from her phone reminded them of why they had moved in the first place. Grumbling, Marinette pulled out the device, squinting as the harsh light assaulted her eyes. A familiar purple banner popped onto her lock screen—the Akuma alert. 

Shit.

“What’s wrong?” Adrien propped up on his elbows, regarding his partner sleepily. Still relaxed, his bandaged wing hung awkwardly from his back. Marinette bit her lip, fingertips reaching over his shoulder to ghost over the feathers. Her light touch caused the shirtless teen to shiver, exposing the crisscross of yellowing bruises on his chest. Had she been less preoccupied with Akuma and Adrien Agreste-related worries, the half-dressed state of the model might have flustered her, but instead of blushing, she frowned. 

Pushing himself into a sitting position, he pressed the back of his hand to his lips, stifling a yawn. His hair stuck up in all directions, casting shadows across his face as the growing dawn light poured into the room. His wings drooped downward, feathers rustling lazily. Marinette hesitated. As selfish as it was, she wanted to stretch this moment as long as possible. For just a moment, she wished they could be regular teens, not the protectors of Paris. 

“Mari?” he breathed, now considerably more awake. 

“There has been an Akuma sighting.” 

Green eyes narrowing, Adrien pushed himself into a standing position. He held his hand out to Marinette, pulling her up with him. 

“What are you doing?” she quickly turned to him, “You’re in no shape to fight.”

The model looked down at his bruised chest. His uninjured wing twitched. With a shrug, Adrien rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s mostly healed…” 

“Fighting an Akuma is not going to help it heal.”

Adrien frowned, “So, I’m just supposed to stay here while you fight alone? It’s my job to protect you, and we both have a responsibility to Paris.” 

“What about your protection?” Marinette snapped. 

“Ladybug has always been more import—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!”

The blonde flinched at her volume, ducking his head. His hands met at his sternum, pulling idly at the ring on his finger. Words he had wanted to say fled from his mouth, sliding down and hiding in his stomach. Adrien didn’t understand her anger. The Ladybug Miraculous had the power of creation. It embodied hope, always returning the city to pre-Akuma conditions. When Marinette used it to become Ladybug, it was no different. She became Paris’ beacon of hope. It was his duty as her partner and as a hero of Paris to keep that hope alive. She could win without him, but he could not win without her. Adrien knew he could make the necessary sacrifice for his Ladybug, just as he had done in the past. Her Miraculous Cure always brought him back, but if it didn’t, he could rest easy knowing he did everything in his power to protect his lady. 

An angry pressure began to grow behind Marinette’s eyes. It stung, making her blue eyes shimmer with unshed tears. Much quieter, she added, “I can’t lose you again.” 

Adrien’s eyes widened. 

“Every time you jump in to protect me,’ her breath hitched, “every time you get hurt or… disappear. I’m so scared. What if I can’t...”

Gaze heavy, the pigtailed girl shook her head, “I can’t heal what is already damaged, but I can protect you from making it worse.” 

She observed Adrien, trying to gauge his reaction. He scanned the floor of her room, busying himself with finding his discarded shirt. Picking up the soft material, he held it close to his chest; elbows bent at his sides.

“Marinette,” Adrien finally broke the silence between them, “Thank you for trying to protect me, but I’m not going to let you go alone.” 

“But—”

Determination blazing across his expression, “I can handle it. Please, trust me.” 

The splattering of discoloration where the wing binder had previously been pulled too tight for too long seemed to glare at Marinette. Maybe if she had been a better partner—a better friend, she could have helped him. Perhaps she could have done something to stop it from getting this bad. She should have helped him. She should have seen his struggle.

Worrying her bottom lip in her teeth, Marinette paused. She knew she was a better hero with Chat Noir by her side. He balanced her out, the other half of her coin. Paris needed both of them. 

“Do you have scissors?”

Pulled from her thoughts, she blinked, “What?”

“I need to cut this shirt.” The blond held it up, “My wings won’t fit.” 

The absurdity of his question caused a laugh to bubble up from the pigtailed girl. Adrien went seamlessly from the heavy topic into a request to cut holes in a Gabriel Brand Original. Maybe it was a way for Marinette to release some of her lingering fear, but the abrupt change of subject tickled her. 

“Why are you laughing?” Adrien cocked his head, “I don’t want to freeze if I have to detransform.” 

Crossing the room to her desk to retrieve the fabric scissors, she countered, “But that isn’t going to happen because we are both going to be extra careful.” 

Adrien blushed. Marinette spun with the scissors in hand, prompting the model to hold up the shirt. He watched her as she examined the fabric. Although he knew of Marinette’s aspirations to be a fashion designer, watching her work reminded him of the professionals who tailored his clothes at shoots. There was no hesitation as she cut through the fabric. 

“Put that on,” she commanded, already exchanging her scissors for a needle and thread. 

The blonde followed her words, easing the material over his head slowly. Holding the needle in her lips, Marinette wordlessly helped him pull the fabric over his wings, gently guiding the appendages through the slits she had made. Focused on the material, she didn’t notice how his hands curled into tight fists. Once the feathers had passed, though, Adrien puffed out his feathers, adjusting the shirt how he liked. 

“Better?” Marinette asked, peeking over Adrien’s shoulder. 

He nodded. 

A loud boom echoed from deeper within the city. Marinette paled. 

“Tikki?” The pigtailed girl called. 

The red kwami zipped out from under the chaise lounge, followed closely by Plagg. They hovered in front of their chosen, seeming more at peace than they had the night before. Marinette smiled as the two lingered near each other for a moment before flying to their respective chosen. Plagg nuzzled into Adrien’s neck, whispering something Marinette couldn't catch. Whatever it was, however, it made Adrien smile. 

Tikki settled in Marinette’s palms, wrapping her tiny limbs around the girl’s thumb in a hug.

“We have to transform,” Marinette sighed, raising her kwami to her cheek to return the hug. Tikki nodded, floating away to prepare herself for the transformation. Before saying the magic words, the teen turned to look at Adrien.

Marinette’s eyes softened. Taking in his tousled hair, she could feel the phantom silkiness on her fingertips. With a thudding heart, she recalled the position they had slept in last night. Catching her staring, he shot her a wide grin, eyes glittering. Privately the girl wished she could take a photo, but now was not the time. They had an Akuma to fight. 

“Tikki, Spots on!”

“Plagg! Claws out!”

The familiar warmth of Tikki’s creation magic flowed over Marinette’s body. Next to her, Adrien seemed to be experiencing a similar exhilaration from his transformation. Standing in her spotted suit, she watched as the bandages on Adrien’s wings melted away under the miraculous magic. He stretched them experimentally, wrinkling his nose in dismay. 

“Are you okay?” Marinette fidgeted with her yo-yo. 

“Feline great,” he shot a thumbs up in her direction. 

Ladybug’s eyebrows shot up, stretching her mask. Adrien was not entirely convincing. Fixing her partner with an incredulous stare, she crossed her arms. Sheepishly, Chat Noir rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m fine… It’s been worse.”

He averted his eyes as her expression fell. 

Ladybug stepped forward, grabbing his hand tenderly. His green eyes shifted to the heroine's gentle hold, unsure and hesitant. Marinette felt her heart flutter when she noticed the red blush peeking around the corners of his black mask. Stretching onto her tip-toes, she placed a kiss on his cheek. More sternly she added, 

“If anything gets worse, tell me. We’re in this together.” 

Adrien trilled in the back of his throat, surprising both of the heroes. They stared at each other wide-eyed before bursting into a fit of laughter. 

“That one’s new,” Marinette raised a spotted hand to her lips to stifle the snickers. Her partner’s face only became redder as she continued giggling. Before he could reply, however, a second boom grabbed his attention. Adrien felt the cat ears atop his head twitch. It was time to save Paris.

The pair of superheroes nodded once before zipping quickly out of the bakery roof. 

The frigid air stung Ladybug’s cheeks. The red-clad heroine cursed Hawk Moth for sending a villain now of all times. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, and she wanted to go back to sleep. 

“According to the app, the Akuma was seen near the Place des Vosges,” Ladybug huffed as she spoke, swinging in time with her partner. 

Chat Noir vaulted in time next to her, eyes shining. With a nod, he altered his course. Ears pricked forward to catch any more indicative sounds. The closer they got, the more they could hear. A flash of purple caught the hero’s eye. Skidding to a stop on the rooftop, he turned just in time to see a hulking Akuma smash into the building. 

The impact rippled through the street, this time accompanied by a plume of smoke. The acrid scent of rubble hit the back of Chat Noir’s throat as the roof shifted below his feet. Eyes widening, Chat leaped. The building was collapsing. 

Ladybug caught her partner’s waist, landing them both safely a few rooftops away. 

“What happened to being careful?” she huffed. Spinning her yo-yo to create a shield, she spared a glance at her partner. His ears were flat against his head, blocking out the rumble of falling bricks and shrieks of civilians. His claws unconsciously pulled at the cuffs of his suit, curling as the sound of sirens were added to the chaos. Tail lashing in discontent, Chat Noir swallowed. The shrill cries of Parisians as they fled the scene made his stomach curl into a tight ball. Shaking his hands out, he grinned up at his Lady. The uncomfortable environment would disappear when she repaired everything. He held onto that knowledge like a lifeline. 

“Aw! Milady,” Adrien batted his eyes, using banter to hide his discomfort, “But then you wouldn’t have been my knight in shining arm-purr.” 

“Haha," she deadpanned. Chat grinned anyway, knowing all too well that Ladybug secretly enjoyed his silly wordplay. A smile was already pulling at the corners of her pink lips. 

"Maybe next time, I’ll wait and see if cats actually land on their feet,” she teased, sticking her tongue out. 

Without missing a beat, the cat hero quipped, "With you there to sweep me off them? Not a chance." 

Ladybug blushed, retracting her yo-yo yo busy herself with something other than her adorable partner. She needed to focus! Shaking her head, she added seriously, “I haven’t caught a good glimpse of this Akuma yet, but if he managed to take out that building… just promise to be careful.” 

Adrien nodded once, green eyes focusing on something behind Ladybug before tackling her to the ground. A giant rock crashed into the roof centimeters from where they had just stood. Another cloud of smoke billowed up from the damaged concrete making Marinette’s blue eyes water. She looked up to find Chat Noir’s eyes already on hers. The worry etched in his expression softened as she blinked up at him. His wings splayed outwards, creating a halo of feathers, protecting her from the bits of rock and snow that sprayed outwards. 

Chat Noir coughed, “Only if you promise the same.” 

“Deal, kitty,” she let out a cough of her own. 

As the dust settled, a roar boomed over the commotion, “Chat Noir! I have a bone to pick with you!” 

Pushing himself off the ground, the cat hero stood with a smirk. He folded his wings neatly, propping himself casually on the rubble the Akuma had just pelted at them. 

“Generally the line is,” the hero cleared his throat, doing his best to imitate Hawk Moth, “‘Give me your Miraculous’” 

Ladybug snorted, standing up beside him. The spotted hero looked to where the previous building had collapsed, laying eyes on the Akuma for the first time. He was colossal. Towering over the fleeing civilians, he was easily the size of the buildings around them. His skin shone a stark white, matching the snow around him. As the sun continued to rise, the white almost became overwhelming. Pulled tightly over his broad chest was an Edwardian style waistcoat, complete with a frilly neckpiece that made the villain look like a giant 1700s revolutionary. There was a red cap that ended in a point atop his head. The edges merged down into a mask over blacked-out eyes. Had he been smaller, the appearance would have been sinister; however, it just looked tacky with this comical scale. Hawk Moth was losing his edge. 

“I’m surprised you’re giving me such an attitude, especially considering the last time we met,” the Akuma growled menacingly. His eyes glowed in hatred, narrowing into slits. 

The hero sighed, bluntly adding, “Forgive me for not remembering your distinct brand of ‘I don’t like you Chat Noir.’”

Much to Ladybug’s surprise, the villain chuckled. The hollow sound bounced off the walls of the city, making her shiver. Her partner seemed just as confused by the outburst. Usually, Chat Noir’s taunting would cause the Akuma to engage, but this one seemed too tactful to let the jabs rile him to action. A flower of unease bloomed in the heroine’s stomach. Maybe Hawk Moth had it more together than she thought. Beside her, Chat Noir flicked his tail. 

“Maybe this will jog your memory.” 

The Akuma reached a hand downwards. Both heroes tensed, ready for an attack. They were not expecting to hear a shrill scream of a civilian reverberate across the space between them. Ladybug jumped onto the lip of the building roof, ready to swoop in and save the day.

“Ah,” The Victorian-themed Akuma tsked. He raised his gloved fist to reveal a petrified civilian. The heroine stiffened. Seeing her hesitation, the Akuma grinned devilishly, “Be careful, Ladybug. Come any closer, and I’ll crush her.” 

The woman thrashed in the villain’s grip. With a move of his thumb, he pinned her tawny wings in his fingers, effectively stopping any chance of her escape. Chat Noir inhaled sharply. 

“I’m going to do what should have been done before people like you scourged humanity,” the villain smiled.

Both heroes felt their stomachs drop as the Akuma raised his other hand. He brought it to the civilian’s pinned wings, pausing a beat to regard the teen heroes. With a smirk laced with madness, he spoke, 

“Purify.” 

Ladybug’s eyes widened as the civilian’s wings dissipated. A tawny feather appeared on the breast of the Akuma's waistcoat. The allusion to the mark being a badge of honor made the hero feel sick. 

“I’ll leave you with that,” the villain casually spoke as if he hadn’t just stolen someone’s wings. Before either hero could retort, the Akuma dropped the civilian into free fall, bounding deeper into the heart of Paris and paying no mind to the buildings in his path. The civilian let out a scream as she fell, making both heroes spring into action. 

Ladybug reached the woman first, catching her and touching down on the street below in one swing. Besides missing her wings and being shaken up, the civilian appeared unharmed. She clutched onto Ladybug until the pounding footsteps of the Akuma had faded into softer tremors. 

“Ladybug! Chat Noir!” The civilian wailed, “You have to stop him!”

“That is our plan, mademoiselle,” Chat helped steady the woman as her feet touched the ground. Without the familiar weight of her wings on her back, it was challenging to balance. A pinched smile adorned the black-clad hero’s face as the woman fell forward onto his chest. She blushed, clearly embarrassed, but also not upset at her proximity with the young hero. Beside them, Ladybug felt a spark of jealousy. 

Pulling the woman upright once again, she clipped, “We will get your wings back as soon as possible. Please stay inside until the Akuma can be purified.” 

Looking at the fallen buildings around them, Ladybug grimaced at her choice of words; thankfully, a paramedic came rushing up to them, taking the woman for examination before anyone could dwell too much. Chat Noir’s tail flicked as he readied his baton. 

“I think I know who our akumatized victim is,” the hero fixed his gaze on the path of destruction that the villain had left. Car alarms, sirens, and yelling filled the space. Blinking slowly to try and clear his head from the assault of stimuli, Chat jutted his chin out towards an undisturbed rooftop. Ladybug nodded in understanding. Tossing her yo-yo, the superhero pair swung upwards. 

“The man from last night,” the cat hero’s wings shivered as he landed, “he threatened…” 

Blond locks scattering, Adrien shook his head. A shiver of unease snaked up his spine at the memory. Ladybug put a hand on his arm, tenderly, “I met the girl he attacked. She thought he was trying to cut off her wings.” 

Marinette felt her partner tense at the words. Casting his head downwards, he spoke quietly, “he said he was going to make you watch.” 

“Chaton...” 

The heroine trailed off. There was nothing she could say to make that statement okay. Her heart ached for her partner. It wasn’t fair that Adrien had to deal with the stress of being a superhero in his little spare time on top of having to watch his back for crazy people like the akumatized man. Blue eyes steeling over, she gazed out over their city. A plume of smoke rose next to the Eiffel Tower. 

“We are going to make sure he can never hurt anyone again.” 

Turning to Chat Noir, she asked, “Are you ready to kick some Akuma butt?”

Although his voice wavered, his eyes shone with determination, “With you by my side? I’m ready for anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, Kudos, and Shares are Greatly Appreciated!
> 
> I'm back!
> 
> My college applications brought on my unintentional hiatus. I was writing this instead of writing those so I had to grind them out all at once, whoops. (adulting who?) But, I finished, and now I'm back and even more excited to continue! I actually ended up writing one of my application essays about this fic, lmao, so this has been hella on my mind even when I wasn't officially working on it. 
> 
> Thank you to Notaguest for checking up on me, I really appreciated it, but I'm sorry for making you worry! Thank you to everyone else for being so patient and understanding while I couldn't update. Shout out to the new people who found this while I was on hiatus and still kudoed and commented their love and support. I see you! I appreciate you! ALSO, shout out to my returning readers! Seeing all of the familiar usernames comment every update makes my heart feel so full. Honestly, I love you guys. 
> 
> This chapter was originally ready to go up last Thursday, but I re-read it the day I was going to upload and decided to rewrite the whole thing. So, I hope you all enjoyed it! 
> 
> Happy first night of Hanukkah! Merry Early Christmas! Forgive me for not knowing other specific December holidays but Happy Holidays for those too! or if you don't celebrate anything, Happy Update Day, lmao. I like to think I purposely timed this update with the holidays but honestly, it was just a coincidence, heh. I hope all of you are staying safe and healthy! 
> 
> Thank you for reading. I really appreciate it <3
> 
> xoxo   
> \- Creative   
> (@creatibug on ig)


	16. The Akuma part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new Akuma proves to be more difficult than Ladybug and Chat Noir originally thought...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is mild cursing and one mention of death

"Chat! Duck!" 

Adrien couched down as the chunk of concrete hurtled over his head. The Akuma kept pausing in his wing-nabbing rampage to throw debris at the heroes, effectively keeping them from getting too close. It was aggravatingly clever. Since he was wreaking havoc on Paris, the heroes couldn't exactly wait for the villain to engage them. Hawk Moth seemed lax on controlling this Akuma to get their miraculous Honestly, it seemed like the Akuma didn't care about their miraculous at all. 

Chat circled back to Ladybug, watching as the Akuma took off to another part of the city. The heroes were no closer to purifying the Akuma, yet the Akuma's breastplate had gained several more feather adornments. Adrien huffed. 

"We need a plan," Ladybug said as he touched down on the roof next to her, "Our usual strategy is not going to cut it."

She was in business mode, already scanning the retreating villain, searching for a weak spot. He was so large he was hard to miss, but civilians would seriously get hurt if he kept destroying buildings. Even with the Miraculous cure, that was risky. 

"It's too early to use Lucky Charm. We don't know where the object is," Chat nodded in agreement. His own eyes drifting over the Akuma. 

The flashing lights of an ambulance drew his attention to the street below; another civilian had lost their wings. Their anguished cry reverberated up to their rooftop perch, making the hero's stomach clench. Ladybug placed a gloved hand on his shoulder. 

"We will fix this, Chaton." 

Adrien nodded, taking a deep breath, "What's the plan, Milady?" 

Ladybug's eyes narrowed. The usually warm and inviting blue turned cold and calculating as she reflected on the destruction around her. What angle was Hawk Moth playing? So far, the only indication that the villain even cared about the heroes was when he had directly called out Chat Noir at the beginning of the fight. After that, he had only targeted winged civilians. So far, no attempt to steal their miraculous had been made. 

"He doesn't seem to be interested in our Miraculous..." Ladybug trailed off. 

"I noticed that too," the cat hero nodded, "Do you think it is some sort of trap?" 

Green eyes fixed on his partner; he waited for her thoughts. If the Akuma was trying to lure them somewhere, it was working. The heroes had no choice but to follow him as he destroyed the city. Their job was to protect Paris. That responsibility did not vanish when the villain seemed more intent on destruction than obtaining their powers. Frustrated, Chat Noir lashed his tail. 

The movement brought Ladybug's attention back to her partner. Her features softened, regarding him with a tenderness that made his heart flutter. The chaos around them that grated on his senses dulled as he melted in her gaze. When she looked at him like that, it made him feel like they were the only two people in the world. 

"Hawk Moth either has a plan, or he's lost control of this Akuma."

Her words snapped him back to reality. Wings shuffling behind him, he tore his gaze out to the city. 

"I'm not sure which one of those theories I prefer." 

Ladybug snorted, "Me, either." 

A rumble echoed through the city, shaking the building the heroes had perched on. Chat extended his staff, leaning on it as icy slush slipped off the roof and onto the street below. Beside him, he felt more than saw Ladybug slip. Without thinking, he darted forward, wrapping his free arm around her waist. 

A warmth shot down his spine as she fell against him. Her arms gripped his shoulder, steadying both of them before they could join the snow on the pavement below. Adrien knew that the rumbling street could be anything but good, but with Marinette's hips pressed into his side, it suddenly became tough to focus. While they had been in close quarters before, now that they knew each other's identities, it suddenly felt more real. Face blushing red, Adrien ducked his head. 

"Thank you," Ladybug breathed. She was close enough for the cat hero to feel the puff of her words on his neck. He shivered, stepping away before he could embarrass himself. 

Adrien coughed, feathers puffing outwards on their own accord, "Of course." 

Turning back to the city, Ladybug frowned, "If our miraculous isn't enough to engage this Akuma, we need to give him a reason to chase us…" 

Chat Noir nodded thoughtfully. Ladybug hadn't said it, but he knew that meant he needed to lure the Akuma away. Even if she had personal reservations about him essentially being bait, she didn't have wings. It had to be him. With a sigh, he shuffled his feathers, "I noticed he has pockets in his waistcoat. The akumatized object is probably in there." 

"Good eye, kitty," she praised. 

Ears pricking upwards at the compliment, he winked. Ladybug grinned, something she would never have done before their identities were revealed. His flirtatious advances had always been met with an eye-roll or a groan. Now, Marinette seemed to be enjoying them. He liked those odds. Tail vibrating excitedly, he readied his staff. Before he could vault off in the direction of the Akuma, however, he felt a hand on his arm. 

"If things get hairy, I need you to promise to get out of there," she met his eyes, trying and failing to conceal her worry. 

"Milady, my father, doesn't allow for me to let... things... get hairy," he frowned, clearly confused, "But I'm not sure what that has to do with our current dilemma." 

"I meant hairy as in the expression, silly kitty," Ladybug blushed, chuckling lightly as she clarified, "If the battle gets to the point where you have to choose between getting hurt or losing a shot at the Akuma's object, please retreat." 

Adrien's brows furrowed. 

"We can always come up with another plan," quieter, she added, "I don't want you to get hurt." 

Shifting from foot to foot in the solemn atmosphere she had created, Chat Noir nodded once. He understood the apprehension she was experiencing. If he had to watch her take hits for him time and time again, he would be scared too. Yet, it was in his miraculous's nature to protect Ladybug. Sometimes it felt like his body moved to protect her outside of its own volition. He was fully ready to save Ladybug; however, sometimes, he felt frozen. When everything got too overwhelming, his body was stuck. In battle, he swore Plagg's powers were the only thing keeping him moving. 

Not wanting to make any false promises, Adrien nodded, "I'll try my best." 

Vaulting off the roof, he heard the zip of Ladybug's yo-yo. Although he trusted her to be there for him, he couldn't help the pit of unease that bloomed in his stomach. The screams of the affected civilians still rattled around in his head. If he wasn't careful, that could be him. He swallowed. 

Adrien shivered involuntarily. This Akuma's ability was eerily similar to what he had accidentally done to the Equalizer Akuma. Hot shame flashed across the hero's face as he recalled the anger and despair the Akuma had expressed at the disintegration of his wing. Chat never meant to do something so inhumane, even if the villain was hurting Paris. However, Hawk Moth seemed perfectly fine with recreating the de-winging attack with this Akuma. It was sickening. 

Violently extending his baton, Chat Noir began picking up speed. He was going to end this. 

The new Akuma came into view, slyly eyeing the approaching cat hero. Ladybug had swerved off of his path to go at the villain from a different angle, making him appear alone.

"Come to play Chat Noir?"

With a sneer, the hero replied, "Please, my wings deserve better than becoming some puny lapel pin." 

"At least all of these feathered freaks could fly," the Akuma jeered.

The hero schooled his face into an impasse, but the comment stung. He supposed he would have to get used to these taunts now that his secret had been revealed. Black feathers twitching, he swallowed his anger. This was not the time to act rashly.

Using the villain's willingness to taunt him, the cat hero moved closer. Adrien could just make out the individual pins across the villain's vest, multicolored feathers standing out against the material. The anger Chat Noir tucked away came roaring back with a vengeance. Fiery emotion surged through his limbs. How many civilians had been caught helpless while he and Ladybug tried to engage the Akuma? 

With a hiss, Chat Noir curled his claws around his baton. Dashing forwards, the hero swung the pole like a bat, aiming for the giant Akuma's midsection. As if the villain had been anticipating this reaction, he swiftly moved his arm to catch Chat Noir's baton, locking the pair in a stalemate. 

A low chuckle slid out of the villain's lips. His blacked out eyes twinkled with sinister malice.

"It's really a shame you're so reliant on this," he nodded down towards the baton, showing no signs of struggle. 

Adrien strained against the Akuma's grip, trying to pull his baton free. Although the Akuma had made no move to grab the hero, standing with his only real weapon locked in his opponent's fist was pushing his already little luck. With a huff of breath, Chat Noir flattened his ears. 

"It's a shame you underestimate its versatility." 

With a press of the familiar pawprint button, the baton expanded. The hero celebrated internally as the pole shot through the Akuma's fingers and nailed him in the stomach. With a surprised "oof," the villain staggered backward, releasing the hero's baton. Not wasting time, Chat Noir moved to strike again, diving off the rooftop to swipe the freed baton at the Akuma's unbalanced stance. He landed with a roll on the street, popping upwards in a flurry of feathers. Throwing his weight, the hero wound up to strike the Akuma's shin. The metal shaft collided with a satisfying thunk, sending vibrations up Chat Noir's arms. 

Tha Akuma let out an enraged yell as he grabbed onto a building to keep himself from crashing onto the street. 

"I was saving you for last," He snarled at the hero, "but it seems you need a reminder of where you belong!"

Crushing part of the building's roof in his fist, the villain regained his footing. Chat Noir retreated out of direct hitting range, trying to keep the Akuma focused on him while keeping his promise to Ladybug. Eyes darting to the surrounding rooftops, he hoped to catch a glimpse of her reassuring red suit. Not seeing her, he frowned in disappointment. With a shrug to himself, he readied his stance to resume fighting the Akuma. Ladybug had a plan; he just had to be patient. 

He expanded his baton once again, trying to get back onto the rooftops before his opponent retaliated. Although his attacks had battered the Akuma somewhat, judging by his grip on the roof Chat Noir was not out of the woods. He had to get to high ground before he got stuck down here. 

Eyes trained upwards; he missed the throw of debris from the Akuma. 

Broken bits of roof rained down onto the black-clad hero. Raising his wings, he shielded his face from the spray, gritting his teeth as bits of rock lodged in his feathers. Dust from the rubble clouded up, making it very hard to see from the street. Coughing, Chat Noir stumbled backward, just barely dodging a cinderblock in the process. Undeterred by the decreasing visibility, the Akuma tore a chimney off the same building. The hefty chunk of brick and metal crashed downwards at an alarming speed. 

Heart pounding, Chat Noir dove out of the way, cringing at the resounding boom the bricks made against the cobblestone streets. His super suit protected most of his body, but Adrien could feel the stinging of gravel against his cheeks. More dust floated upwards, blocking each party from view. 

Although Adrien was grateful for the shield the dust provided, each breath stung his lungs, threatening to send him into a coughing fit. He panted, releasing a wracking cough into his elbow. In a half-hearted attempt to clear the air, Chat Noir gave a pitiful flap of his wings. The black feathers rippled uneasily with the movement, reminding the hero why he tried not to use them in the first place. Gritting his teeth, Adrien readied his baton. There was no time to deal with his aching wings. He had to get out of here. 

With every moment the battle continued, the teen hero could feel the adrenaline coursing through his body. He was sure he was going to be hurting later, but at the moment, he felt powerful. He could not afford to let it go to waste. Paris needed him. Ladybug needed him. Pushing through the debris-filled air, he moved towards the Akuma. 

The giant villain paused his attack, squinting into the smokescreen he had created. Chat Noir used the hesitation to his advantage. With a huff of air, Adrien withdrew his staff, vaulting right at the Akuma. The dust was dissipating quickly, but by the time the villain had noticed the black-clad hero emerging from the cloud, it was too late. 

Chat Noir knew it was a cheap shot. Had he been a better hero, he might have waited to fight the Akuma on even ground. However, remembering the sheer terror on the civilian's faces as their wings vanished off their backs fueled his limbs forward. The Akuma had been far from honorable. With a mighty swing, Adrien's staff smashed into the hero's neck. 

The villain let out a choked yell. On instinct, his gloved hands went to his throat, body doubling over as he gasped for air. Chat Noir withdrew his staff with adept speed, expanding it so he could reach the ground safely. As soon as the hero's boots touched the pavement, he brought his baton around again, swiping at the Akuma's ankles with the dexterity of a fencer. This time the villain did not have the bearings to stop his fall. 

With a twitch of his cat ears, Chat Noir heard the reassuring twang of Ladybug yo-yo zipping over as the giant wobbled. She wrapped her yo-yo around his legs with a skilled throw, yanking the string to cause the Akuma to fall backward. The cobblestones cracked under the sudden weight, creating a crater in the shape of his body.

Chat Noir watched in awe as the muscles rippled under her suit. Face scrunched in determination, she leaped onto the Akuma's bulging belly. Before the downed villain could register what she was doing, her hand snaked into one of the pockets of his waistcoat, pulling out a purple pocket watch. Grinning at their perceived victory, she tossed it to Chat. 

Not missing a beat, Adrien called out, "Cataclysm!"

The raw destructive power flowed through his body. Adrien could feel the energy of all the past Chat Noir's surging forward as he caught the pocket watch. It was both thrilling and terrifying, knowing that such a violent power coursed through his veins. He shivered as his clawed gloved closed around the pocket watch. The pristine purple surface quickly turned grey and cracked as the Cataclysm worked its magic. He unceremoniously dropped the object, waiting for the corrupted butterfly to emerge from the broken face. After a moment passed, there was still no butterfly. 

He glanced up to Ladybug with a frown, searching her face for the answer. The use of his miraculous power left him feeling lightheaded as Plagg's influence begin to wane. As if he needed a reminder, his ring beeped, signifying the timer for his transformation had started. Still confused, he blinked slowly at his partner, trying to figure out why he hadn't seen a butterfly. 

Ladybug looked pale. 

Green eyes widening, he watched the Akuma stir underneath her. 

"Looking for this?" The Akuma lifted his head, somehow still managing to look intimidating even while flat on his back. He raised his hand, holding a knife just like the one he had used in the alley. The realization washed over the cat hero. 

They had broken the wrong object. 

Moving quickly, the Akuma took advantage of the hero's shock. He swept his arm hard and fast across his front, right where his partner was standing. 

"Ladybug!" Chat Noir yelled in warning seconds too late. She turned towards him, just as the villain's arm collided with her. 

He watched helplessly as her body crumpled, going from a powerful heroine to a teenage girl in a matter of seconds. She flew backward into an abandoned storefront, littering glass into the street. The red of her suit disappeared into the dark building, leaving Chat Noir breathless and alone. On autopilot, he ran towards her, only to be stopped by the now upright Akuma. His blacked out eyes shined with a hatred that made the cat hero's blood run cold. 

"We're not done, Chat Noir."

Although the Akuma was still sitting in the extra-large crater, he seemed even larger to the cat hero. Panic seized his throat as his green eyes darted between the villain and the storefront where his partner had disappeared. Acting rashly, he crashed forward, bounding on all fours towards his partner. He had to get to her. He had to see if she was okay. 

Enraged from almost being beaten, the Akuma moved just as fast. With an angry snarl, he stood up, blocking the hero entirely. 

"Please," Chat Nour flattened his ears, tail curling wildly. His voice wavered, betraying the raw fear that urged him recklessly forward. 

Bending down over the hero, the Akuma smirked, "I knew you were just Ladybug's little bitch. Look at you! Cowering without your mistress. It's a shame she got in the way of my purification." 

"Shut up!" Chat Noir drew his baton, arms shaking with a combination of fear and anger. How dare this man hurt his partner. How dare he threaten the very hope that held Paris together. When she continued not to emerge from the shop, Adrien felt his fear grow. 

His ring beeped again. 

"You're running out of time," the Akuma taunted in a sing-song voice. 

Using his overbearing size, he feinted to the right, pushing Chat Noir further from his partner. For every attempt the hero made to move closer, he met it with a push further away. He could tell the cat was getting desperate, and the longer Ladybug stayed out of this battle, the more he could make Chat Noir squirm. Smirking, he felt the negative emotions fuel his power. 

"What are you waiting for?" Chat Noir bit out bitterly, "Are you going to take the Miralcous off of our dead bodies?"

The Akuma let out a manic laugh, "Hawk Moth really has you guys trained."

Chat Noir felt his ears flick forwards, confused as to what the Akuma meant. Lucky for him, the villain was far from finished monologuing. 

"Hawk Moth has never picked a real hero for his champions. Focusing on petty negative emotions can only get someone so far," the villain snorted, "Hawk Moth needs a champion that has a justified hatred festering in their hearts. His first smart move was to pick me to akumatize." 

Eyes flashing, he said, "But he underestimated just how dedicated I was to my cause." 

Chat Noir gulped. His tail hung low, bracing himself for what came next. 

"Hawk Moth and I made a little deal… I'll get him the miraculous after I finish what needs to be done. In exchange, I won't hurt his son." 

The cat hero frowned, "His son? But who—"

"Too much talking!" the Akuma snapped. He made a grab for Chat Noir, smiling evilly as the cat hero realized he had been backed into a corner. 

Chat Noir gasped as he felt the Akuma's gloves close around him. The sudden crushing weight on his chest and against his wings caused unpleasant memories from his civilian life to flash behind his eyelids. Letting out an inhuman yowl, Adrien thrashed in the Akuma's fist, ignoring how the movements made his wings hurt more. There was only one thing on his mind: escape. 

The villain continued, undeterred by the hero's thrashing. If anything, he was enjoying watching the protector of Paris struggle. With his arms, wings, and baton pinned inside of the fist, the hero was helpless. With a sickening grin, he tightened his grip, watching as the hero was forced to still. 

"Let me go," Chat Noir panted, ears flat against his blond locks. 

"Just a minute," the Akuma continued grinning, "I'm enjoying this." 

Adrien tried to breathe as he heard the small bones in his wings begin to snap under pressure. His whole body felt like it was on fire. With another beep from his ring, the hero felt the pain get worse. Plagg couldn't hold out for much longer. Surrendering, Adrien let out a whimper.

"Good to see you finally remember your place, winged scum," the Akuma spat at the hero. 

Adrien flinched, sending a new wave of pain down his back. 

"This is for the good of everyone," the villain continued raising his other hand. As the knife approached him, Adrien froze. The Akuma hadn't let the heroes close enough to see the 'purification' process--they had thought the glowing light had come from his glove--but now that he was on the receiving end, there was no doubt what was about to happen. 

"Purify."

Chat Noir braced himself for the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments, Kudos, and Shares are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Okay for taking two months off, only being three days late on this upload is not too bad. 
> 
> I hope you guys like this chapter! I wrote most of this offline and then mooched off of someone else's wifi to upload. I am truly living my best life, lol. That being said, I probably will not get any comment or kudos notifications until I have wifi again. (It's a long story, but everything is okay I swear) So if you scream at me for leaving a cliffhanger know that I'm not ignoring you or anything. I really appreciate all of you guys <3 (even if I leave Chat's fate up in the air in between uploads hehe) 
> 
> I hope everyone who celebrates Christmas had a wonderful holiday! 
> 
> Thank you again for reading! 
> 
> xoxo,   
> Creative


	17. Upside Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir and Ladybug process what the Akuma revealed about Hawk Moth's identity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> descriptions of blood
> 
> mild cursing
> 
> creative liberties on Mircalous lore 

Chat Noir was falling again. 

Panic seized the hero’s throat as he felt the Akuma's fist loosen. He scrambled for his baton, fumbling with the button as his brain struggled to keep up. 

His wings were gone. 

Adrien didn’t know how to feel about that. There was no time. The ground was approaching rapidly—especially now that he didn’t have the feathery appendages slowing his descent. With a last-minute swipe, his staff expanded, striking the pavement with a crack. 

The impact traveled up his body, jarring his limbs as he touched down clumsily. The Akuma chuckled, looming over the wingless hero with an intimidating smirk. Chat Noir wobbled, off-balance without the familiar weight on his back. Even though he spent most of his life with his wings bound, their complete disappearance was a whole new experience. How did non-winged people do this? Adrien felt like he needed to lean backward to counteract the shocking lack of weight behind him. Scattering his blond locks with a frustrated shake, Adrien resolved to lean on his staff until he could get his bearings. 

“I’ll be back for your Miraculous,” the Akuma glanced over to the destroyed storefront. Shards of glass stuck out of the layer of snow, giving the area a sinister shine. Ladybug had yet to emerge. 

“I imagine you’ll both be here for a while.”

Adrien felt his stomach drop. 

With a final smirk, the Akuma bounded further into the city. Each step sent tremors down the street, making Chat Noir’s legs wobble. The teen hero kept his eyes glued on the storefront, breath coming in shallow pants. He needed to move. He had to get to Ladybug. 

Staggering forward, Adrien launched himself towards his partner. His legs wouldn’t move fast enough. Every step felt shaky, emphasized by the fading tremors of the street. The hero’s ears flattened in frustration as he tipped too far forward. He had never given much thought to how his wings unconsciously balanced him, but now it was obnoxiously prominent. Hissing to himself, he drew his baton, vastly overestimating the momentum he needed to vault his wingless self over to the storefront. 

With a crunch, his boots further shattered the window. The hero didn’t even notice how the sharp edges caught on his super suit as he ducked into the store. Fear drove his attention elsewhere. He had to find Ladybug. 

The dark store was in chaos. 

Had it not been in the middle of a dangerous Akuma attack, the little shop might have looked quaint. Classy cream painted walls framed a dark wood floor. Towards the back of the store, Chat Noir spotted the remnants of a broken mirror. Catching his own eyes, he winced. The cracked reflection and low light did nothing for his gaunt features. The boyish cheeks he had sported for so long were gone, replaced instead by the sharp angle of cheekbones. While his black mask covered the remnants of his dark circles, his transformed cat sclera appeared dull. The hero let out a resigned sigh, watching as the visible edges of his ribs expanded and fell with the breath. 

He looked weak. 

Eyes hardening, he snapped his attention away from his reflection. Moving was beginning to get more comfortable as he stepped further into the store. He tucked his baton into its attachment at his hip, eyes scanning the shop for any signs of his partner. 

The racks of clothing, once arranged in an orderly manner, had been strewn haphazardly. Adrien pushed a downed mannequin out of his path with the toe of his boot, wincing when the featureless head came detached. A table that once held cutesy accessories laid toppled onto the floor. The hero stepped over it, placing a gloved hand on the upright legs for extra balance. After clearing the obstacle, a spot of red on the floor caught the hero’s attention. 

Crouching down, he examined it, hair bristling as its sharp metal sent filled the back of his mouth. 

That was blood. 

“Ladybug,” he breathed, fear making his voice waver. 

Straightening quickly, he scanned the rest of the shop. A display of clothing a few feet from the table caught his eye. The metal bar used to hold the hangers caved inward as if something heavy had struck it. Chat Noir didn’t like what that implied; however, as he moved closer to the pile of hangers, rods, and clothing, it became clear that was where Ladybug had fallen. 

He rushed over, stumbling to his knees over the broken shelving. Tossing clothing out of the way, he revealed a familiar spotted suit. 

“Ladybug?” 

As gently as he could, the cat hero pulled his partner out from the collapsed clothing hanger. He cradled her body in his arms, breath catching as his eyes found the bleeding cut on her forehead. Hands shaking, he tore a piece of fabric off from the clothes around them, pressing it to the gash. At his touch, she began to stir, letting out a groan. 

He let out a shaky breath as her eyes fluttered open. The brilliant blue settled on green. He gave her a small smile, not bothering to hide the relief in his expression. Ladybug returned the face, wincing in pain. It felt like she had been hit by a truck. Her head swam, making the room spin. 

“What happened?” she groaned.

“We broke the wrong object. You kind of got thrown through a window.” He helped her sit up, moving so she could lean back on his chest. The smell of her shampoo filled his nose, making him sigh. She was here. She was in his arms. She was safe. He could finally breathe again. 

“That explains a lot,” She took the wad of fabric from his hand and brought it to her forehead. For a moment, they simply sat in the store, leaning against each other. She sighed, blinking away the dizziness leftover from her head wound. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, leaning his head down towards Ladybug. 

“Yeah,” she turned to look at him, “Nothing I can’t handle.”

She frowned, feeling as though something was wrong. As the heroine’s eyes ghosted over his back, she let out a gasp. 

“Chat! Your wings!”

Although she had seen Adrien appear wingless many times, there was something heartwrenching about seeing Chat Noir without the feathers. She spun around entirely, kneeling in front of her partner. He blushed at her outburst, ears flattening. 

“The Akuma took them…” 

She spluttered, “Are you okay?” 

Her partner shrugged. Twisting, he craned his neck to see behind him, pleasantly surprised when the action was not met with its usual fiery pain. The wing slits that usually adorned his suit were patched over with two oval-shapes. 

“It feels unnatural, but it's not exactly painful.” 

Ladybug cupped his cheek, concern painting her features. The red of Chat Noir’s face deepened, “I think it didn’t affect me as bad because my wings are… uh, you know.” 

“Right,” she dropped her hand, now feeling awkward, “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault,” the cat hero responded with a half-smile. She could tell he appreciated her sentiment, but ‘sorry’ couldn't do much to fix his mess.

Adrien caught his tail with his hands, rubbing his fingers over the smooth material. In front of him, his partner stared out of the store through the gaping hole in the window. He watched her, taking in the way her hair curled just in front of her ear. Without giving it too much thought, he raised his hand, tucking the strand behind her ear. Her eyes darted back to him, sighing into his gentle caress. At the sound, his ears swiveled forwards, making a warmth spread throughout his body. 

The cut on her forehead welled up again, threatening to drip blood down her temple. He raised his hand from her cheek. With a slow, deliberate swiped of his thumb, he smeared the red liquid onto his glove, stopping in from dripping. Ladybug let out a breathy gasp at the sudden pressure, making his pupils shift to slits. 

Chat Noir stood up, offering a hand down to help his Lady. She blinked as he slipped his fingers through hers. He pulled her up slowly, an unreadable expression spilling over his eyes. His breath hitched as she pulled him closer to her, guiding his hands to rest on her waist. Behind him, his tail flicked restlessly, fidgeting while Adrien couldn't. Marinette’s gaze flickered to his soft pink lips.

A familiar beep broke through the moment. 

Out of habit, her hands flew to her earlobes, checking her Miraculous. She remembered she had yet to use Lucky Charm halfway through the action, dropping her hands awkwardly at her sides. The beep had come from her partner. 

Chat Noir looked at his ring, wincing as he read the singular pad left in his paw print timer. He only had a few more seconds before Plagg would have to drop his transformation. He backed away from her, waiting for the magic to flash him back into his civilian self. 

“The Akuma is expecting both of us to be out of commission. We will have the element of surprise on our side.” 

Ladybug nodded, mind already flitting back to their opponent. The Akuma's moves had been calculated, purposeful. The villain had wanted the heroes to think they had the upper hand, leading them on just enough to make it seem like they would pull it off. It was the same tactic he had used to fight Chat Noir in the alleyway. Ladybug’s eyes burned with anger. This Akuma played dirty. 

A green flash of light quickly followed the final beep of his super suit. Plagg spun out of the ring, expecting to land in Adrien’s outstretched hands. However, the sudden and unexpected reappearance of wings on the teen hero’s back caused him to trip backward, leading to both Adrien and the Kwami landing on the floor. 

“Woah!” Ladybug moved quickly towards her partner but stopped when he flinched away. Frowning, she watched him get his bearings, wings shuffling behind him. 

“Adrien,” Plagg whined dramatically. 

“Just a minute, you glutinous cat,” Adrien snapped at his kwami. Biting his tongue to repress an uncomfortable hiss of pain, the blond squeezed his eyes shut. That couldn't be good.

The familiar weight of his wings pulled on his tired muscles. Reacting to Adrien’s discomfort, the feathers rippled in unease, each shift sending a rolling cramp down the teen’s back. The affected muscles went rigid with tension, eliciting a low wine from his throat. He drew his legs up, bracing his forehead against his knees. 

“What the hell happened?” Plagg pushed himself off the ground, pointing a tiny paw accusingly at Ladybug. She flinched, unsure of how to handle the scene in front of her. Another ripple of tension passed through Adrien’s feathers making her eyes widen. She didn’t know what to do.

“I-I don’t know,” she sputtered, completely out of her element, “The Akuma took his wings, but they came back when he detransformed and…” 

The black cat rolled his eyes, clearly irritated at her lack of initiative. Fighting the exhaustion that followed a forced detransformation, the kwami flew to his chosen, dropping quickly onto his hunched shoulder. 

“Kid?” Plagg rubbed his face against Adrien’s neck, “I know it hurts, but you have to relax.” 

Adrien shook his head. His fingernails dug into his biceps as another wave of pain crashed through his body. This was worse than a few nights ago. Something was seriously wrong. 

“It hu-hurts,” The blond breathed unsteadily through his nose. 

Marinette finally spurred into action, crossed the room to her partner’s side. She kneeled next to him, eyes flitting worryingly over his black feathers. Although Adrien’s wings were folded due to his overbinding, it was hard for the unwinged heroine to tell what was damaged versus what was natural for him. 

“Adrien?” she spoke softly, “Is it okay if I touch you?” 

He nodded against his knees, trying to focus on taking even breaths. Plagg spoke softly in his ear, watching Ladybug out of one eye. Undeterred by the kwami’s protective glare, Marinette reached out to Adrien’s wings. 

The fingers of her gloves brushed his feathers, making them pause in their frantic movement. Adrien exhaled, finally releasing his arms from his grip. Ladybug tried not to stare at the red half-moon marks that were left behind on his biceps. Continuing her movements, she began to stroke his trembling wings. 

Although she had wrapped his previous injury the previous night, the bandage was long gone. Without the magic of his costume, dark red blood clumped around the unbandaged wound. Shuffling around behind him, she took another discarded shirt off the floor. Using one hand, Marinette guided Adrien’s wing open. She pressed the wad of fabric onto the matted feathers, wincing as he did. 

Plagg turned to watch, kneading his little paws into Adrien’s shoulder, hoping to help the muscle relax. He was still watching Ladybug, but the protective weariness was slowly being replaced by exhaustion. 

“Your wound reopened,” she stated, frowning as she tried to figure out how she was going to attach the makeshift bandage to his wing. 

Taking a shaky breath, the blond replied, “That’s not ideal.” 

Had she not been pressing a shirt to his bleeding wing, she might have found his deadpan correctness charming, maybe even funny. Letting a hum of agreement pass through her lips, she wrapped the long sleeves of the shirt around his wing bones, tying it tightly. 

He winced as she helped him guide his wing into a folded position. The cramps in his back had thankfully subsided with Plagg’s tiny massages and Ladybug’s gentle touch. 

Behind him, Ladybug spoke quietly, “Does that happen a lot?” 

A flare of hot shame curled in Adrien’s belly. He rubbed the back of his neck, scooping his tired kwami off his shoulder and into his shirt pocket. 

“Kind of?”

Marinette’s face fell, “Chaton…” 

He spun around slowly, facing his partner. 

“They aren’t always quite that bad,” he looked at the floor, “I usually have all of those symptoms, but they don’t always come all at once like that.”

She reached for his hand, smiling when he squeezed her hands first. His fingers were cold, but his hold was reassuring. 

“I’m sorry you had to see it. It couldn’t have been very befitting.” 

Blue eyes widening, she admonished, “Adrien Agreste, do not apologize. I hate seeing you in pain, but it’s because I care about you, not because it’s inconvenient.”

He blushed, nodded. 

With a final squeeze, she let go of his hand, eyes finding Plagg. He peaked out of Adrien’s pocket, regarding her with an approving expression. The moment only lasted a minute; however, as the gurgling of Plagg's empty stomach soon interrupted the quiet. 

“Alright,” Adrien looked down at the tiny cat, “I’ll find you something to eat.”

The blond sighed, pulling himself up from the floor. Marinette scrambled to follow him, ready to catch him if his wings decided to throw another fit. 

Running one hand through his thoroughly tousled hair, Adrien glanced around the store. This time he looked for something for Plagg to eat. The teen holder hadn’t expected to be away from his kwami’s stash of cheese for this long. It turned out that sneaking from the Agreste Mansion to protest involved many sidetracks, not that Adrien complained. Finding out his partner's identity and spending the night on her floor had been a highlight. 

Smiling softly, he glanced back to Ladybug. She caught his gaze, looking away, bashfully. 

After making sure he was not about to return to the floor in pain, she moved away. As a fellow miraculous holder, she completely understood his movement to find food. Crouching down by the toppled accessories table, she began to sort through the items. A crease showed on her forehead as she furrowed her eyebrows in concentration. 

“Why didn’t the wing removal from the Akuma transfer over to your civilian self?” Marinette asked as she searched. 

“Maybe it’s because of the Miraculous?” Adrien guessed, hands flying together to spin his ring. 

“That doesn't make sense,” Plagg interjected. Now that Adrien's wing crisis had been averted, the kwami was grouchy. He frowned at his chosen, hoping that the teen would materialize some food. 

“But the Sandboy Akuma attack affected our civilian and hero identities differently,” Ladybug tapped her cheek in thought, “Maybe it’s the same kind of magic.” 

The black kwami sighed, fixing Ladybug with an incredulous stare. He blinked slowly, pupils narrowing.

“That was completely different.” 

Ladybug frowned, but the kwami seemed unwilling to elaborate. 

That was all the talking they were going to get out of Plagg until they found him some food.

A sharp prod from the hangry kwami in his pocket drew Adrien out of his thoughts. The teen snorted. If Plagg had his way, he would never be without cheese, but the model was not about to carry around camembert more than was necessary. 

“Check behind the counter,” Ladybug suggested as she stood up empty-handed, “One of the employees might have stored a snack or something.” 

With a hum of appreciation, Adrien made his way over to the checkout. The monitor by the cash register had turned blue, broadcasting an error message in blinking white font. Ignoring it, the teen crouched down, wings automatically adjusting as the tips of his mussed flight feathers brushed the floor. His wound stung a little, but his wings seemed to have given up their protest after the scene they had just caused. 

Sure enough, Ladybug had been correct. A small packet of American brand cheese-filled snack crackers was tucked next to a box of hangers. 

“Plagg,” Adrien smirked, grabbing the pack, “These have cheese!” 

“Don’t degrade my beautiful, creamy love to the same level as that chemical garbage,” Plagg’s head leaned out, nose turning upwards at the cheese crackers. 

Ladybug stifled a snort with her hand, catching the two boy’s attention. Adrien grinned, pleased he had managed to make her smile. Plagg hung his tiny paws over the lip of the pocket, ears flattening in embarrassment. 

“Well,” he conceded, “I suppose they will work.” 

Adrien stood, fingers fumbling with the plastic wrap. Without the super suit, the cold from outside was starting to get to the teen. Frustrated, he gripped the packaging in his teeth, ripping it open quickly. One of the crackers dropped onto his hand, spreading crumbs everywhere. The blond let out an unflattering noise of discomfort. The tiny bead-like crumbs ran down his hand; each morsel felt like a little bug. He was not pleased. Plagg flew upwards, rescuing his chosen from the gross crumbs. 

The kwami took the snack, gobbling it down quickly to avoid tasting the artificial, bright orange substance that passed for cheese. Although Adrien complained about the smell of camembert, at least it was real. Wrinkling his nose, Plagg took the rest of the packet from his chosen’s hand. Within record time, he had consumed the whole thing. The black cat yawned, flitting over to rest on the check out countertop. 

Stomach distended, he looked over to Ladybug, finally ready to explain.

“The glamour protecting your identities made the Sandboy attack affect each of your identities differently. Since it was targeting your fears, it was easy to manipulate,” the kwami grunted, rolling over on the counter, “Your priorities change when you’re transformed, thus, also changing what you fear. What Adrien is afraid of, for example, does not have the same effect on Chat Noir.” 

The teen shivered, remembering how that Akuma had trapped him in a literal cage before he could transform. While being locked up was Adrien’s worst fear, as Chat Noir, it wasn’t as scary. His miraculous provided him with the ability to escape his gilded cage—or any other locked space he happened to be forced into. However, when he was transformed, not being able to protect Ladybug became his biggest fear. The idea of losing his partner outdid any lingering claustrophobia. 

Plagg continued, this time addressing his chosen, “Your wings aren’t specific to one of your identities. There has to be a different reason why they reappeared.” 

Brow furrowing, Adrien shuffled the feathers on his back. The dull pain he was used to pulsed up his shoulders. He exhaled, twisting his neck in, hoping to relieve some of the pressure. 

Ladybug sighed, “So you’re saying the magic had to specifically not work on Adrien?” 

Plagg nodded. 

The pigtailed heroine looked to her detransformed partner, “Do you have any idea why that would be?” 

The teen thought back to the battle. He remembered Akuma had said he made a deal with Hawk Moth. Brow furrowing, he tried to recall the specifics. His mind had been a little preoccupied with worry for Ladybug, so he was having trouble remembering what precisely had been said. 

“He made a deal with Hawk Moth,” Adrien crossed his arms, trying to rub some warmth into them.

Ladybug nodded. 

The green-eyed teen could see the cogs in her mind wiring to life, sorting through the information she knew. This was what made her a fantastic Ladybug. Marinette's innate ability to sort through data and make a plan never ceased to impress the cat hero. Realizing he had trailed off, he reigned in his focus. 

_What had the Akuma said?_

“Hawk Moth would let him wait to collect our Miraculouses…” Adrien paled, “if the Akuma didn’t use the de-winging ability on his son.”  
He snapped his attention to Ladybug, hoping desperately that she had come to a different conclusion. Time seemed to slow down as he tried to read her expression. She stared at him, gaze unchanging. 

The wrongness that he had hoped to avoid jumped to his throat, making his next words forced and strained, “Do you think Hawk Moth would put a safety net in the ability to ensure….” 

The sentence was never finished. Adrien rocked onto the balls of his feet, feeling a need to yell, or scream, or punch something well up inside him. But he stayed silent, gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. 

“Kid…”

The teen cringed when he realized that Plagg had flown up to his face. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

Adrien backed away, shaking his head. His lungs screamed for air. Realizing he hadn’t breathed, the teen gasped, choking on oxygen. Gasping, he braced one hand on the counter, waiting for his racing heart to slow. 

“Did you know?” Ladybug asked Plagg. The edge in her voice made Adrien freeze. 

Plagg bristled, leaving Adrien’s side to float in the girl’s face, “Of course I didn’t know! Nooroo is my friend! I don’t want them in Hawk Moth’s clutches any more than you do.”

The kwami’s green eyes glazed over with hurt, “And I would never intentionally put Adrien in danger.” 

Plagg refused to look at his chosen, not wanting to see the conflicting emotions dance across his face. As the kwami of destruction, he had tried to distance himself from his holders, but no matter how hard the cat had tried to push him away, Adrien found a way into Plagg’s shielded heart. Locking eyes with Ladybug, the kwami nodded with finality. He would always protect Adrien, as much as his power allowed. 

Clearing his throat, the blond interrupted their silent exchange, “I guess that confirms it?” 

Neither his kwami nor his partner was quick to answer, making the silence stretch out uncomfortably. Letting out a long exhale, Adrien ran a hand through his hair. He had so many questions, but neither of the beings in front of him could answer with surety. Yet, something inside of the boy told him it was true. 

The feeling of dread that washed over him with the initial realization was slowly replaced by anger. It filled his body, making him feel warm despite the winter chill gusting in from the broken window. 

Ladybug bit her lip, looking to Plagg once again. The kwami’s eyes shone with unshed power. The channeled destruction swarmed with emotion, thrashing to be released by its cat-themed wielder. Shocked by the tiny god’s intensity, the heroine turned to Adrien. His hands flexed at his sides as if he could feel Plagg’s brimming power. She dragged her eyes upwards, feeling uneasy when she found a similar, dangerous expression. 

The black cat miraculous was ready to prowl.

Hands clenched into fists, Adrien spoke with conviction, “My father is Hawk Moth.” 

Marinette frowned. 

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, comments, and shares are always appreciated!
> 
> Happy New Year! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I've played with how I wanted to reveal Hawk Moth since I started this fic, and I'm actually pleased with this. Adrien's gonna need lots of hugs, but hopefully, it was enjoyable to read! 
> 
> xoxo,   
> Creative


	18. Trial and Error

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug and Chat Noir have trouble executing a successful plan against the Akuma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think this chapter needs any content warnings  
> (other than my creative liberties on Miraculous lore but hopefully that isn't too awful lmao)

Ladybug fixed her eyes on the Akuma in front of her. His head was down, eyes combing through the rubble-filled streets in search of his next victim. With an evil chuckle, the Akuma bent down, capturing yet another victim in his fist. It was hard to make out from this distance, but the brief flash of light was unmistakable. Another civilian had lost their wings. 

Beside her, Chat Noir moved restlessly, wingless again since dawning his transformation. She glanced to him, unease spreading in her belly at his expression. His black pupils were narrowed into slits, making the green of his sclera look menacing. She resisted the urge to reach out to him. If they had the time, she would have rubbed away the sharp lines of tension from his jaw and reminded him he was not alone. However, there was something about the anger rolling off of him that stopped her. 

It wasn’t that she wasn’t angry. She was furious that she had allowed herself to be knocked unconscious, furious that the Akuma had managed to best them, furious at Hawk Moth for more reasons than she could name. She was sure that Chat Noir could sense her emotion just as she could feel his. Their years working together allowed their paired miraculous certain advantages, and the ability to stay on the same wavelength was no exception. However, while her anger felt white and hungry for justice, his rage burned a dark black on the edges of her awareness. 

As if sensing her prodding, he glanced at her. 

His ears twitched, stretching out on either side of his head like his wings might have. At the thought, Ladybug’s lips pressed into a firm line. She could only imagine how jarring the lack of feathers had to be for him. While her partner seemed to be managing, she had seen how he had reacted to the other wing stealings. It had to be worse than he was letting on. 

He let out a heavy sigh, “What’s the plan, Milady?” 

Swallowing, she tossed her yo-yo forward. That was a loaded question. Chat Noir followed her actions, not bothered by the lack of an immediate answer. As they landed on the next rooftop, Ladybug felt more than saw her partner tip forward, jutting his staff outwards for balance. 

Since they had left the boutique, Chat Noir had been off, and not just from the emotional bombshell of his father being Hawk Moth. While that anger was the most apparent change to see, there was also something else going on. His usually perfect cat balance had seemingly disappeared. It reminded her of when she had first gotten her own miraculous: clumsy and unsure. Ladybug would be lying if she said she wasn’t worried. 

She opened her mouth to express her concern, but one glare from her partner stopped the words from coming. The dangerous anger swelled. Ladybug tore her gaze away. 

“We can’t take on Hawk Moth yet,” she said instead. Her partner growled lowly.

Hesitating, Ladybug frowned, “Chat... Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Chat’s tail moved quickly, causing it to snap against the air, “Let’s just finish this.” 

As if to prove the statement, the teen hero launched himself forward, flipping in mid-air and landing several rooftops away. His arms shot out as his boots clicked on the icy surface, just managing to keep his balance. Ladybug sighed, following him closer to the Akuma. 

“The corrupted item is the knife,” Chat Noir clipped when Ladybug caught up. The heroine nodded, not trusting her voice to reply without betraying her worry. The Akuma was much closer now, eyes gleaming sinisterly as the heroes approached. 

“Look who’s back,” The villain snorted, pausing in his search for remaining winged people to regard the heroes, “I thought I’d done more permanent damage.” 

Ladybug crossed her arms, “You’re wrong about a lot of things.” 

He continued as if she hadn’t spoken, this time addressing Chat Noir, “It’s a shame. She would have made a wonderful martyr. Now she can hardly be useful to my cause.” 

Chat Noir’s whole body went rigid.

“Watch your mouth.”

Plagg’s power pulsed through his veins, filling him with energy that no ordinary human would possess. It surged under his skin, pooling in a barely contained coil underneath his breastbone. Eyes narrowing, the hero drew his staff. He refused to let this Akuma getaway. 

Undeterred by the cat hero’s clear sign of aggression, the Akuma scoffed, “I purify you, and this is the thanks I get? Because of me, you can be a civilized member of society!”

Ladybug stepped next to her partner, spinning her yo-yo. She was close enough that their arms brushed. The ghost of a touch sending a shiver through Adrien’s charged body. He allowed his gaze to flit to his partner, smirking when he saw his own determination reflected in her face. She was with him. 

She caught his eye with a tiny nod before turning back to the Akuma, “Your logic is flawed, on so many levels.”

“And what are you going to do about it? With this ability, I make the rules.”

Ladybug caught he yo-yo, winding up for a powerful throw, “I guess we’ll just have to take away your power then,” 

As if expecting this, the Akuma shrugged, “Yeah… no.” 

The next moments seemed to move in slow motion.

Chat Noir saw the villain shift, seemingly far too fast for his massive size. His fist collided with the building, showering dust into the air. The rooftop lurched, causing both heroes to stumble. Ladybug’s yo-yo slipped through her fingers, missing its target as her foundation swayed. Taking advantage of the extra time, the Akuma lifted two handfuls of rubble above his head. An ear-splitting creaking filled Chat Noir’s ears as the building began to collapse. As a combination of thick dust and smoke swirled around the heroes, the Akuma released the crushed up cement in his hands. 

Adrien didn’t have time to think. The dust stung his eyes and throat, blurring the world around him. Ladybug coughed next to him, blinded by the dark smoke. He pulled her closer, spinning his baton above their heads to deflect the falling stones. A particularly large piece struck the staff, showering stinging particles over the pair of heroes.

The Akuma let out an evil laugh, causing the power inside the boy to swirl, riding the new wave of anger. Presuming that he had bested them once again, Akuma retreated. The heavy thuds did nothing to preserve the foundation of the building. Each reverberating shake sent more cinderblocks to the street below and more dust into the air. Another lurch went through the structure. It was going to cave.

With a shove, Chat Noir forced Ladybug to jump. She let out an undignified squeak, coughing as more dust filled her lungs. The cat hero followed close behind, boots leaving the building just as the roof disappeared beneath him. Adrenaline pumped through his body, thankfully letting him experience the lonely fall from the collapsing building without reliving the fall from the Eiffel Tower. The dust was thicker on the ground. Even with his superior vision abilities, he couldn’t quite make out his partner in the haze. 

“Ladybug,” he rasped, lungs burning. He pushed himself forward, knowing they were still too close to the building to be safe. Familiar coughing came from in front of him. 

“Chat!” she responded. Her shape pushed through the smog, reaching him quickly. Fingers closing around his bicep, she yanked him forward. He stumbled, letting out a shaky cough as the dust-coated his lungs. They both needed to get out of here. 

Another boom sounded from behind him as the last of the building collapsed. Acting on pure instinct, Chat Noir tackled Ladybug to the ground, shielding her from any straying rubble with his body. It was similar to their position earlier in the battle, but this time Chat couldn’t use his wings to expand his shield. He hissed as pieces of shrapnel caught the edges of his suit. The magic material held, but Adrien found the pain was hard to ignore. Thankfully, the shower of rubble was over quickly, just leaving the haze of dissipating dust around them. 

Breathing heavily, Chat Noir looked down. Ladybug’s temple was bleeding again, but she didn’t appear to have any additional injuries. She huffed as she wiped the wound with the back of her hand, eyes scanning him for injuries. He pushed himself off of her, not bothering to hide the way his hands pulled at his curling tail. Like a dying breath, the building let out a shuddering creak. Rolling his shoulders against the offending sound, he reached a hand out to his partner. 

His senses felt electrified, stretched in every direction. He could feel Ladybug’s hand in his, warm against the cold air pricking at his skin. The dust particles in the air caught in the winter sun, shining a burnt gold. Each sensation filled him up, mixing with the coiled destruction in his chest and bubbling uncomfortably. Shifting on his feet, he dispelled some of the feeling, only half hearing Ladybug when she asked him if he was okay. 

Chat Noir slowly became aware of the hands perched against his sternum. He blinked down at them, eyes drawing connections between them and his elbows, bent at his sides like a dinosaur. They were his hands. He blinked again.

Ladybug stood next to him, a red-clad protector, while he sorted through the onslaught of stimuli. She watched him return, eyes shifting from distant to present and hands dropping back down at his sides. 

“Hi,” she smiled as he looked at her. 

He smiled back, tail flicking lightly behind him. 

“You know, now that I have all this experience falling, I think I should get a new job,” Chat Noir rolled his shoulders again, stretching the muscles where his wings would have connected more out of habit than necessity. The lightness at his back was still just off-putting enough to demand his focus. 

“Chat is this the time—”

Green eyes gleaming mischievously, he continued, “I’d make a great _Trip_ Advisor.”

Ladybug took a deep breath, closing her eyes as her partner dissolved into giggles. 

“Oh come on!” a mixture between a laugh and a cough shook his chest, “That was funny.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Agreste.” 

Diverting attention from the pink of his cheeks, the teen smiled at his partner. Laying a hand over his heart dramatically, he batted his eyelashes at her, “You think I’m cute? Milady, you flatter me.” 

She leaned into his space, eyes glancing down to his pink lips slowly. His tail curled in anticipation, pupils blown wide as she came closer. Then, with a quick flick of her fingers, she hit the bell on his neck. Startling, Chat Noir let out a mewl, turning beat red as Ladybug snorted with laughter. She pulled away from him, unsuccessful in stopping the onslaught of giggles. 

The blond pretended to pout. Even with all his quirks, Marinette still thought he was cute. His heart swelled, calming the bubbling black magic he could still feel underneath his skin.

Ladybug finally schooled her laughter; eyes still light from the exchange. Chat felt his ears prick forward, following her movements as she stepped closer to the fallen building. He fiddled with the cuffs on his gloves, ears, and tail moving to broadcast his affection. As if sensing his thoughts, she shot him a tender smile. 

Unfortunately, the affectionate atmosphere couldn’t last. The heroes of Paris still had a villain to defeat. 

Turning back to the building, Ladybug yanked the string of her yo-yo—miraculously still in her hands. The line tightened, shifting a few of the smaller pieces of rubble as it retracted into her awaiting palm. With a quick flick of her wrist, she caught it, bicep flexing with the effort. After attaching the weapon to her hip, she looked back to her partner. 

“We have to get him to expose his knife.”

The cat hero nodded, brows furrowing in thought, “It’s going to be a little hard considering neither of us has wings.” 

Ladybug’s wince was not lost to Chat Noir. 

He blundered onwards, “We’ll just have to wait until he finds another civilian.” 

“Great,” Ladybug breathed. She pinched the bridge of her nose, not happy with their available options. Further endangering civilians was not something she wanted to do, but what choice did they have? Even though temporary wielders, like Alya or Luka, had wings, there was no telling where they were. In the time it would take to find them, the Akuma could have hurt dozens of civilians. 

“We won’t let them get hurt,” Chat Noir said definitively. Recalling the Parisians, they had failed to protect did nothing to calm the destructive ability that swelled inside him once more. 

The spotted heroine nodded once. Gripping her yo-yo, she spoke with new resolve, “We’ll try to take him by surprise. I’ll use my ability once we get close.” 

Withdrawing his staff from where it rested on his hip, Chat Noir hummed in acknowledgment. They would have to move fast to take this Akuma by surprise. Hopefully, the Lucky Charm would help them end this battle once and for all. 

Ladybug tossed her yo-yo, swinging herself upwards over the street. The black suit of her partner shrunk in her vision as she shot upwards. However, the illusion ceased as he vaulted after her. She smiled to herself. Catching glimpses of his blond hair flipping over itself with every change of momentum, they continued to move through Paris. 

The cold air rushed around them, burning their exposed cheeks a rosy red. Moving in tandem, the heroes fell into a rhythm. Ladybug wondered if Chat felt it too. Whatever had been missing at the beginning of the fight had clicked back into place. They were in sync. She didn’t need to be the patron of luck to feel hopeful about this confrontation. Ladybug and Chat Noir were going to save the day. By the time the Akuma came into view, Ladybug was ready.

Dropping down into a nearby side street, Ladybug peaked around the corner of the building. Before being abandoned by its patrons, the establishment appeared to be a casual restaurant. Topped tables spread into the plaza where the Akuma stood, some deformed as though they had been stepped on. Ladybug pressed herself against the stone wall, leaning out just enough so she could see the villain over the overturned outdoor dining amenities. 

The Akuma muttered to himself, ducking down to peer through the windows of an apartment building across the plaza. Ladybug was thankful that he wasn’t punching through the walls. Honestly, she avoided thinking about how many people could be hurting inside the fallen structures all day. She shivered. 

“What is he saying?” the heroine whispered to her partner as he landed silently beside her. 

Without speaking, he closed his eyes, ears swiveling forward to detect the villain’s words. As if confused, he tilted his head to the side. The movement was reminiscent of something a young kitten would do, and it took more willpower than Ladybug would care to admit to suppress the urge to scratch behind his ears. Shaking her head, she dispelled the distracting thoughts. 

_Work now, admire Adrien later._

“It sounds like he’s arguing?” The statement came out like a question as Chat Noir opened his eyes. Frowning, he continued, “I can only hear one voice, though.” 

Ladybug tapped her chin in thought, “Maybe he’s talking to Hawk Moth?”

“Very possible,” he agreed, eyes narrowing.

The heroine peered around the corner once more. Squinting, she tried to spot the ominous purple mask that always appeared when Hawk Moth communicated with his Akumas. 

It was almost impossible to tell from their angle. The Akuma faced away from their hiding spot, stilled as he continued to mumble under his breath. Emboldened by his lack of movement, Ladybug took a step forward. If she could get a little further, she could tell what the Akuma was doing. The more she knew, the faster she could come up with a use for her Lucky Charm. 

Leaving the barrier of the wall, she inched forward. Placing one hand on a toppled chair, she crouched. Although it didn’t provide much cover, it was better than being out in the open. Without knowing what the Akuma was doing, she didn’t want to take any chances. They had been fooled enough times already. 

Just as the red-clad hero was about to take another step, there was a sound of glass breaking. 

Chat Noir darted out instantly, pulling Ladybug back behind the cover of the wall before she could process where the sound originated. She let out a surprised gasp, falling back against her partner’s chest. His hand clamped over her mouth, silencing the sound. They stayed frozen, ready to bolt if the Akuma had discovered their hiding place. 

Ladybug tried to listen for clues, but the hot pants from her partner’s breaths were making it very hard to concentrate. She could feel each expansion of his chest against her back, teasing them closer together. The sensation sent warm shivers down her spine. 

Chat Noir let out a grunt, pressing his lips into her hair to muffle the sound. His grip on her waist and over her mouth seemed to tighten ever so slightly, making her heart race with an unfamiliar excitement. She unconsciously leaned closer to him, closing the little space left between them. 

The cat hero spun Ladybug, dropping his hands from her body. While the action had been an attempt to put some space between them, it had only successfully trapped her against the wall. Even as she tried to remain quiet, his enhanced hearing picked up the way her breath hitched, sending a warm wave right to his abdomen. 

He didn’t meet her eye, focusing on the cold air that nipped at his face, or the crack in the sidewalk, or the Akuma that lurked just around the corner. Anything to switch his mind out of teenage boy mode and back superhero. 

“I know you’re there,” the Akuma spoke. 

Adrien bit his lip to suppress a hiss. While the words had worked as a cold shower over the teenage hero, the thought that they had lost their edge on the Akuma again made him angry. Leaning away from Ladybug, he peeked around the corner. 

Relief quickly flooded his system. 

Whispering to his partner, he explained, “Nadja Chamack is here. He must have heard them, not us.” 

Ladybug huffed quietly, “That woman should not be here! This is an Akuma attack!” 

“That sounds like another journalist we know.” 

The heroine sputtered, “Alya would go home if she were in danger!”

Chat Noir gave Ladybug an incredulous look, “We’re talking about the same Alya, right?” 

Ladybug opened her mouth but promptly closed it when she couldn’t think of a good response. Conceding, Ladybug muttered, “Maybe karma will come to get her for her last special.” 

Logically the hero knew she probably shouldn’t have said that. As Ladybug, she was supposed to treat everyone equally and not show bias. However, her miraculous cure would reverse any physical damage that happened during today’s battle, and the reaction she got out of Chat Noir was definitely worth it. Besides, even though the woman had put her partner through hell, she was still a civilian. Either hero would be ready to save her. 

Chat’s tail quirked upwards as he fought to keep the smile off his face. Half-heartedly he admonished his partner, “Shh! I’m trying to hear what they are saying.” 

Ladybug nodded, eyes still light as she pressed her lips together. Both partners peaked around the corner, curious to watch the exchange. 

“Hello, Akuma!” Nadja said energetically into her microphone, “Do you have anything to say to the people of Paris? We’re currently live on air.” 

The spotted heroine pinched her nose in annoyance. 

Heavy footfalls echoed across the plaza. The Akuma hovered over the reporter menacingly, squinting at her crew. To Nadja’s credit, she didn’t cower, but the cameraman next to her looked like he wanted to run away from the scene. The camera balanced on his shoulder shook with his knees. Smirking at his fear, the Akuma said, “Don’t be scared, I’m only trying to rid Paris of these bird-brained excuses for humans.” 

Not missing a beat, Nadja asked another question, “And what about the buildings you’ve destroyed? Surely there have been people in those?” 

“It’s the price of freedom,” the villain shrugged. 

Chat Noir practically vibrated with anger, ducking back to the wall to keep himself from blowing their cover. Beside him, Ladybug looked just as livid. The storm that raged in her eyes was not easily ignored. 

“Might as well use this distraction to our advantage,” She ripped her yo-yo off her hip with more force than necessary. Tossing the face upwards, she seethed, “Lucky Charm!” 

In a flash of pink light—thankfully not noticed by the news crew or Akuma—a square bottle fell into Ladybug’s hands. It was small and appeared to be made of glass; as she turned it right side up in her hand, she observed it was filled with some sort of clear liquid. Any colors had been replaced by her familiar spot vision, making it almost impossible to tell what it was. 

“What am I supposed to do with this?” She exclaimed with a huff. The words she often repeated for Lucky Charms in her former years would have been funnier if they weren’t running out of time. The Akuma wouldn’t indulge Nadja forever. 

“I know what that is,” Chat whispered. His voice was suddenly hoarse, grabbing Ladybug’s attention. 

He wouldn’t look at her. 

She pulled the black cap off the top, surprised to find a spritzer inside. With one finger, she pressed on the cool metal surface, letting out a spritz of the transparent substance inside. Chat Noir wrinkled his nose, taking a step back from the bottle. Brow furrowing, she sniffed where the liquid had landed on her suit.

Her lucky charm was perfume. 

Looking to her partner for help, she asked, “Any ideas on how to use this tiny bottle of perfume to take out our giant villain?” 

“Ladybug,” he swallowed, “That’s not just any perfume…”

Blue eyes wide, she examined the bottle in her hands. It was the right shape; even with the lack of brand images, she should have seen it sooner. If anything, the smell should have been a dead giveaway. Radiant. Carefree. 

“Adrien.” 

“Hmm?” 

“No,” she shook her head, “I mean the perfume. It’s Adrien. Isn’t it?” 

Her partner nodded. 

Lifting the bottle to examine again, Ladybug sighed, “I still can’t figure out a plan.” 

“I have one.” 

“Kitty,” she deadpanned, “I’m not letting you confront the Akuma alone.” 

“How—”

“Your penchant for self-preservation is concerningly low.” 

The hero pouted, green eyes glittering with hurt. Recapping the perfume, she grabbed his hand, “We’re partners. It will always be the _two _of us against the world.”__

____

____

Chat Noir let out a sigh, squeezing his Lady’s hand. She was right. Even though the lucky charm screamed his secret identity, they were partners. It would take them both to defeat this Akuma. 

“Here’s the plan...” she dropped his hand, eyes gleaming. 

Chat felt his breath catch in his throat. This was how he had fallen in love with her. While she was physically beautiful, her blue eyes and dark shiny hair were enough to make most people look twice; it had been her brain that had captured his heart, hook, line, and sinker. He listened to her intently, green eyes following her free hand as it gave little punctuating gestures. 

With a definitive nod, she finished relaying the plan. It was now or never.

Tail flicking behind him, Chat stepped away from his partner, waiting until she disappeared atop the roof to leave the cover of the restaurant. Bounding on all fours into the middle of the plaza, he smirked as he heard Nadja’s surprised narration of his arrival. 

“Hey, Akuma!” Chat Noir stood up tall, puffing out his chest in an attempt to look intimidating. He felt comically small without his wings puffed out behind him, but his confidence didn’t falter. 

Scoffing, the Akuma spun on his heels, “I’m starting to understand why Hawk Moth is so eager to have me dispose of you. You keep coming back to meddle in my work.” 

Flashing his model smile, Chat Noir quipped, “This cat has nine lives.” 

The villain scowled, taking a step in the cat hero’s direction. Adrien didn’t move. He had to keep the Akuma’s attention for a little longer. 

“Jealous?” he taunted. “It’s pro of my miraculous.”

Wiggling his fingers in the Akuma's direction, he continued, “Too bad your powers are only temporary.”

“When I get your miraculous, Hawk Moth will let me keep my powers!”

The Akuma lunged forward. Chat Noir dove away from his giant feet, moving quickly to avoid being stepped on. Continuing to evade from the ground, he drew his staff. With a huff, he expanded it upwards, launching himself onto the Akuma’s back. Howling with rage, the Akuma shook his body, trying to dislodge the cat. 

Digging his claws into the soft material of the Akuma’s waistcoat, Adrien held tight. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted his partner ushering Nadja and her crew to safety. It was only a quick glimpse, but Nadja appeared to be making a fuss. 

He would just have to stall a little longer. 

The Akuma changed tactics. Realizing that Chat Noir would not be thrown off easily, he began backing towards the restaurant. Discarded tables snapped under the sudden weight making the villain grunt uncomfortably. As the pair moved closer, the Akuma crouched into a squat, preparing to ram his back into the stone facade. 

Eyes widening, Chat Noir realized if he didn’t move, the Akuma would crush him. Bunching his legs underneath him, he used the Akuma's back to vault onto the rooftop. He landed with a wobble as the Akuma hit the structure. 

With an irritated growl, the Akuma quickly spun, realizing his target had once again evaded his attack. 

“Stop moving, you slimy cat! You’re making this harder than it needs to be!”

The teen hero scoffed, “Forgive me for not feeling bad for you.” 

Taking advantage of the Akuma’s words, Chat Noir leaped forward. In a fury of limbs, he spun in midair, using his momentum to hit his opponent across the temple—the weapon connected with a satisfying crack. Buzzing thrums ran down his arms, the baton practically vibrating from the impact. 

However, the satisfaction was short-lived. 

Moving impossibly fast after taking a hit to the head, the Akuma smacked the cat hero out of the air. 

“Chat!” Ladybug screamed. The panic and anger lacing her voice made his ears ring. 

Oxygen rushed from his lungs as he soared across the plaza. Plagg’s magic pulsed through Adrien’s veins, bracing the teen hero from the impact. The power surged from his chest in a burning rush as his body hit the icy cobblestones. 

Gasping, Chat pressed a gloved hand to his sternum, eyes watering from the impact. With a groan, he rolled onto his stomach, failing to suppress the urge to curl into a fetal position. The power of destruction rubbed his nerves raw from the inside out. 

He needed to breathe. 

With a choking cough, the teen hero pushed himself up, immediately regretting it when the world spun in front of him. Head reeling, he forced himself to look where his partner and the Akuma clashed. 

Ladybug was a red blur in his vision. Her suit’s edges mixed with the garish colors of the Akuma's outfit, amplifying Chat Noir’s vertigo. 

_This was not going to work._

While he couldn’t have been down for more than a few moments, watching his partner barely avoid the Akuma’s attacks stretched it into hours. Standing on shaky legs, he let out a growl, heart pounding as Ladybug dropped to the ground to avoid her yo-yo string being snatched out of thin air. Distantly, he wondered if this is how she felt when he engaged the Akuma alone. 

It hurt. Striking right through Chat Noir’s heart and making his blood run cold. His brain screamed to jump back into the fray. Thoughts turning violent and ugly, it howled at him to go and protect her. 

Yet, he held himself still. 

Something twinged in the back of his consciousness. Barely a flicker of an idea, silencing the onslaught of thoughts. For a moment, the perfume bottle Ladybug held caught the sun, reflecting like a sparkling jewel in her hand. Like magic, a plan formulated in his mind. 

He knew that Ladybug usually came up with the Lucky Charm's use, but Adrien couldn’t deny the stirring sensation that was slowly overtaking him. It had to be right. The puzzle pieces fit together. It was too perfect to be a coincidence. 

He winced, thinking of Ladybug’s reaction. Biting his lip, he pushed onwards. This was going to work.

Ducking behind an overturned table, Chat Noir peeked to where Nadja and her crew had been standing. The corner was empty, but he doubted they went very far. As if proving his thoughts correct, Nadja’s arm shot out from behind the wall, gesturing to Ladybug and the Akuma in front of them. Their position allowed them to watch the Akuma but not see Chat Noir. 

_Perfect._

Standing up, he bellowed, “Hey Akuma! I brought you a present.” 

Disappearing back behind the table, he whispered two words, “Detransform me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this akuma has been akumatized for TOO LONG 
> 
> as always kudos, comments, and shares are always appreciated!


	19. Gamble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Akuma finally gets what is coming to him. Gabriel reveals himself as Hawk Moth. Adrien is just trying to hang in there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Gabriel Agreste being a horrible parent (yelling, insulting, manipulation)
> 
> also not really a warning but the miraculous ladybug characters are selectively blind

"Are you insane!" Plagg swarmed to Adrien's face as soon as he left the ring. He may not have been in a physical form when transformed, but he could read Adrien's emotions well enough to gather the teen had come up with a stupidly dangerous idea. The fact that he had dropped his transformation after purposefully getting the Akuma's attention was evidence enough. 

Adrien grinned sheepishly, shivering from the cold air around him. While he had been transformed, he had hardly noticed the bite of the winter wind, but now that he was fully exposed, it stung his skin. 

Plagg hissed, "You're going to get yourself killed!"

"This will work," Adrien remained crouched behind the table, eyes flashing with determination. 

Plagg buried his head in his paws. He knew that look. The fearless determination that radiated off his chosen made him a fantastic hero, but right now, it made him reckless. The kwami would never admit it, but he was afraid for Adrien. 

The teen had worked his way past the kwami's walls. Persisting through every grouse, every dramatic whine, every bullheaded argument, Adrien never wavered. Slowly the boy had crept into Plagg's heart, reminding him that it was okay to feel. 

But the feeling came with a price. 

Green eyes clouding with the memories of past holders, Plagg's ears drooped. His heart ached as their smiles flitted through his head, full of life in his memories but now long gone. The kwami wasn't ready for the same thing to happen to Adrien. He was so young and deserved to live a long, happy, fulfilling life. 

"Adrien," Plagg swallowed, not bothering to hide how his voice wavered. Adrien needed to know. No more hiding behind bravado. 

The blond's attention snapped to his kwami, surprise and concern flooding the irises. 

"Plagg?" 

"I just want—"

"Where are you hiding, Chat Noir?" The Akuma's voice boomed over their conversation. Both beings flinched at the volume, pressing closer to the overturned tabletop. 

Letting out a resigned sigh, the black cat placed a paw on Adrien's cheek, "I'll see you soon, kid." 

The teen shook his head once, a wordless promise to come back safely. 

Plagg watched with a heavy heart as Adrien pulled his bangs into his eyes. The kwami figured the teen attempted to delay the Akuma from noticing his identity until the last minute. If Hawk Moth—Gabriel—rendered this ability useless against Adrien, a few extra seconds of ambiguity could work to his advantage. 

"Chat Noir had to take care of some other business," Adrien stepped out into the open, purposefully avoiding looking at his partner. He was sure that Ladybug would be shooting daggers with her eyes, and the blond knew sorting through that would send his senses into a frenzy. Instead, he flexed his wings, spreading the feathers as wide as he could. 

The Akuma zeroed in on him, practically foaming at the mouth to get his hands on another set of wings. Ladybug shouted in protest as the Akuma sloppily moved forward, making the ground shake under his steps. 

"Give me your wings!" The Akuma was almost upon Adrien now. 

Pensively Adrien shot a glance towards Nadjia and her crew, sidestepping so the camera could have a better view of what was about to happen. If everything went as planned, having clear footage would benefit the superhero duo's long game. 

And it was high time they started playing the long game. 

The Akuma followed, assuming Adrien's movement was out of fear, not strategy. He crouched onto his knees, swatting away Ladybug's yo-yo with frightening accuracy. Waistcoat bunching over his round belly, he loomed over the teen's slender figure. Heavy breaths blew the blond's hair sideways, further obscuring the boy's face. The villain reached his hand out, preparing to grab him. 

"Let me see the face of who I am bestowing this gift onto," with a sneer, he added, "Even if you winged scum don't deserve it."

With a smirk, Adrien stood tall. Everything was in place; there was one last thing to do. 

Sweeping his bangs back, Adrien gave the Akuma a model smile, "Are you sure you want my wings?" 

As if a switch had flipped, the Akuma paused. His hand froze in reaching forward, fingers twitching against the magic-induced paralysis. 

"What is this?" the Akuma scowled. 

Darkly Adrien spat, "Why don't you ask my father?"

As if summoned, the glowing purple mask appeared over Akuma's eyes. It misted over as Hawk Moth deepened his connection with the Akuma, dark eyes replacing with an unyielding grey. 

"You're lucky Nathalie informed me of your disobedience, or else I might not have put this little clause in this Akuma's powers," his father tutted through the Akuma's connection. Seeing his father's eyes and hearing his father's voice come out of someone else made Adrien's gut clench uncomfortably. 

"How did you figure out my identity?" 

"Chat Noir told me," Adrien hoped his father wouldn't see through the lie. Thankfully his father let out a curse, seeming to remember the information slip the man had given the cat hero. 

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way," Gabriel cooed with fake concern, "I was going to tell you after I succeeded, but I suppose now is as good as ever."

Manipulating the Akuma's body, Hawk Moth reached out to his son.

Against his mind's wishes, Adrien's body flinched violently. Heart pounding, his father's eyes bore into him. In a brief attempt at avoidance, Adrien's mind flitted to Nooroo, Hawk Moth's kwami. The poor butterfly was undoubtedly using a tremendous amount of energy for this transmission to take place. The teen's racing heart clenched almost painfully. 

Figuring out his father was Hawk Moth was one thing, but seeing it right in front of his face unleashed a whole new wave of emotions. Questions swarmed the teen's brain, fueling his anger once again. 

Undeterred by his son's apparent disdain, Hawk Moth pressed the pad of the Akuma's finger into the side of Adrien's chin, turning his face to the side. 

"Tch," Gabriel tutted, "You scratched your face. How irresponsible." 

Adrien clenched his jaw, "Don't touch me."

"Watch your tone, boy!" The Akuma withdrew his hand, "If you hadn't been so ungrateful, you wouldn't have gotten into this mess." 

"Father!" Adrien swallowed the growing tightness in his throat, "You're the one who has been terrorizing Paris—my friends, for years!" 

"You don't understand! I am trying to fix everything, you ungrateful brat!" Hawk Moth boomed. 

The teen model's fingers twitched at his sides. Seething with anger, he spat, "Stop lying to me!" 

"My dear boy, I have never lied to you," Hawk Moth's eyes glinted with poorly contained rage, "With the miraculous, I can finally bring back Emilie!"

Adrien's chest heaved as his lungs raced to catch up with his racing heart. His head spun; each thought screamed for his attention, waging war behind his eyes. Vaguely he felt his knees buckle, sending tremors up his body and into his wings. Unable to stand, he plopped onto the ground, legs folded underneath him. The melted snow on the pavement seeped into his pants, but the teen barely noticed. 

He knew his mother was gone. The loss still tore at his heart and threatened to spill tears from his eyes. But what if his father was right? 

Could the power of the combined miraculous bring her back? 

The blond hung his head, hair covering his expression. As he mulled over his father's words, his mind flitted through memories. His mother, framed in an ethereal gold—that had definitely been added by his own brain—sat on the piano bench, teaching him to play nursery rhymes. He remembered being much more interested in playing with her shiny necklace, puffy fledgling wings twitching in delight as his fist caught the polished band.

An intense, unrelenting longing overcame him. Life had been so simple then. The mansion had been filled with love, and warmth, and life. His mother had brought it with her and stolen it when she fell ill. He wished he could go back to that existence. 

In his son's silence, Gabriel continued, "Do you see? I had to do this. Everything I've done has been for our family. The wish will set everything right!" 

Adrien frowned. He couldn't go back. 

Even if the magic could bring back his mother and somehow heal the visible and invisible scars his father's alter ego had left on Paris, so much had changed. Gabriel was different, and not just from using a miraculous for evil. He had become dark and twisted, wedging animosity between those around him and grasping for control. And Gabriel's behavior was not the only change. Adrien felt like a completely different person from when his mother was alive. 

He had made new friends. He discovered things about the world that were ugly and raw, which was something he knew his mother would have tried to shield him from. She had been doing it her whole life, hiding her sickness and not preparing him for the hostility he would receive for his wings. In that way, she was not much different from his father. Their protection may have been well-intentioned, but in enforcing it, they had forgotten something important. 

Adrien just wanted to be supported. Not as the son they wanted him to be, but for who he was. 

Salty tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. As much as he missed his mother, he knew her return would not fix things. If Hawk Moth succeeded with this plan, they would be moving backward, which was never good for anyone. 

Although the longing still pulled at the corners of his heart, Adrien knew what he had to do. 

Eyes distant, Adrien spoke quietly, "You're wrong." 

Memories of past battles filled his head. He and Ladybug had watched their friends turn into mindless pawns over and over. They had been forced to fight innocent people when they became akumatized. They had seen more suffering than most people see in their entire lives. 

They had fought each other.

Adrien's wings twitched as he remembered being brought under an Akuma's mind control. Although anyone affected by an Akuma's abilities would not remember their actions once the purification occurred, Chat Noir had watched the battles on the news and knew that he'd hurt his partner.

Hawk Moth chose to make those akumas. He decided to take advantage of negative emotions for his own gain. There was no necessity. 

Stretching his wings for balance, Adrien pulled himself to his feet. 

Hawk Moth frowned. 

Revealing his real intentions was his trump card. Adrien had to understand. The sacrifices he had made were for the greater good. Now, Adrien had to know why he had been so distant. Now that his son knew the truth, they could bring Emilie back together.

Yet, the fire in the teen's eyes spoke volumes.

Louder Adrien shouted, "You're wrong!"

Hawk Moth's mouth stood agape at his son's outburst. 

Undeterred, Adrien pushed onwards, "There was always a choice, father. Is this what mother would have wanted? To have her memory be tainted by this needless violence?" 

"How dare you act like you know what she would have wanted!" Gabriel was fuming now. 

"Paris would lay in ruin if you were successful!" 

"And this Akuma would have been successful! Without you meddling in my plans, I could have beaten Chat Noir and Ladybug!"

Adrien blinked, stunned at his father's words. 

Technically, Hawk Moth hadn't lost yet, but it didn't take a genius to see that Adrien's presence distracted him. Even the villain seemed to know if he lost his cool, Ladybug would swoop in and take away his vessel. 

"Father," Adrien's voice wavered, "How far were you going to go?"

"She was my wife, I'd do any—"

"She was my mother!" Adrien tried to interrupt, but his words were quickly overtaken by a broken sob. Sound shaking through his body, he squeezed his eyes shut to keep the tears from falling. Twin tracks already adorned his face, the residue liquid making his cheeks shine in the winter sun. No more crying. With a choking breath, the blond continued, "I lost her too." 

For once, Gabriel found himself at a loss for words. Gazing into his son's eyes, he saw raw, unbridled pain. 

"But it turns out, that wasn't the worst part," Adrien continued, wiping his tear-stained cheeks on his sleeves. "The worst part was losing my father at the same time." 

The Akuma's limbs twitched through the connection, trying to use the super villain's shock to regain control of his body. However, Gabriel held firm, flickering for only a moment before regaining control. The blip had caused Adrien to step back, but the pain was still present in his eyes. 

"I did it all for us," He repeated like a broken record. 

"Look around you, father," Adrien sniffed. "At what cost?"

Gabriel sighed, humoring his son and glancing around the destroyed plaza. The cracked cobblestones and overturned chairs didn't look too terrible, but he knew that the rest of the city was in much worse shape. The memories of his Akuma toppling buildings and grabbing civilians out of their homes were fresh in his mind. As he turned to look the other way, his eyes zeroed in on Nadja Chamack, recording the entire exchange. 

Gabriel saw red. 

He had watched Ladybug escort them elsewhere while his Akuma had engaged Chat Noir; however, here they were, filming his son with his wings exposed and recording while he confessed to being Hawk Moth. They must have returned while he was distracted with his son. 

His son had distracted him while they streamed evidence of his crimes to all of Paris.

Turning back to Adrien, he raged, "You deceitful little traitor!" 

Maybe it was the teen's struggle understanding others' emotions, or perhaps it was the fact that his father was currently projecting his consciousness into a different body. Either way, Adrien was not prepared for what came next. 

Gabriel lunged forward, giant hands outstretched to capture his son, "How dare you disrespect me! I didn't think you had it in you to trick me in front of all of Paris!" 

Adrien froze. His mind screamed at him to run, but his legs wouldn't cooperate. The grey of his father's eyes merged with the Akuma's body, sending a shake of unease down the teen's spine. As the giant barreled towards him, all he could do was tremble in place. 

Ladybug swooped in like a guardian angel. In a blur of red and black, she wrapped her yo-yo around the Akuma's torso. Once she had secured the string, she pulled it tight against the Akuma's bulging belly. 

Gabriel turned to where she had landed. Unfortunately, her movement had snapped Adrien out of his stupor, and he was now hightailing it over to the table where he had first emerged. Scowling at his son's escape, he swept his outstretched arms at the heroine, attempting to bat her away. 

Gracefully she flipped over the appendage, revealing a spotted perfume bottle in her hand. With a smirk, she sprayed the liquid sent into the Akuma's eyes, making Hawk Moth relinquish his control over the Akuma's body. The man howled in pain, once again with his own voice. 

Taking advantage of his position, Ladybug slipped her hand into his waistcoat, removing a glowing knife. Without ceremony, she hurled it to the grown, satisfied when it broke, releasing the corrupted butterfly. 

With a flick of her wrist, she detangled her yo-yo from the villain. The compact opened with a glow, preparing to capture the Akuma before it could do any more damage. She hurled her weapon at the bug, catching it on her first try. 

"No more evil-doing for you," bringing two fingers to its spotted surface, she opened the compact. "Time to de-evilize!" 

The purified butterfly emerged from the yo-yo. Its white wings fluttered, seemingly happy to be free. 

"Bye-Bye, little butterfly," Ladybug sighed with a note of relief. 

Not bothering to watch it fly away, she gripped the perfume bottle in her hand. Images of the destroyed city flashed in her mind, urging her onwards with haste. Tossing the luck charm upwards, she called, "Miraculous Ladybug!"

Her chest deflated with newfound calmness, a glowing swarm of ladybugs erupted from the charm. Overturned tables and chairs righted as the magic passed over them, the cracked pavements and buildings returning to their pristine stature. She watched as they spiraled around the space, arching over buildings and out to the rest of the city. People stirred, able to relax and return to their lives now that the threat had passed. 

After repairing the damage, the sparkling bus returned, swirling around the akumatized man to return him to his original firm. He groaned, rubbing his eyes in surprise. 

"What happened?" 

In a clipped voice, Ladybug explained, "You were akumatized." 

The man let out a wheezing laugh, dissolving into a fit of coughs, "I suppose that's one way to get out of being arrested." 

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Ladybug remarked. 

Sure enough, the familiar whine of approaching police cars reverberated off the buildings in the plaza. Two cruisers pulled up to the scene, sandwiching the man between their flashing lights and Ladybug. 

Eyes venomous, the man scowled at the heroine. His gaze screamed that he thought his fate was her fault. 

Unphased by his stare, she watched him until the officer had secured him in cuffs, not bothering to listen or watch as he began hollering obscenities at her. Ignoring his snarling, she spoke to one of the officers. 

"We know Hawk Moth's identity. Send some patrol cars to the Agreste Mansion. My partner and I will be there to help you apprehend him once we rechange." 

Nooroo had to be exhausted. It would be a while before Gabriel could transform again. This was their chance to end this. 

She just hoped Adrien would be ready. 

"Yes, Mademoiselle Ladybug," The officer saluted her, "Anything we can do to help your mission." 

With a grateful nod, she turned away, walking the few steps to where Adrien stood. 

The blond's green eyes were wide, focused over her shoulder as the man was shoved into the vehicle. Behind him, his wings vibrated, with shivers or shaking the heroine wasn't sure. 

"Hey," She greeted softly. 

He blinked, slowly processing she was talking to him. Ladybug waited patiently, letting the boy in front of her take the time he needed. 

"Ladybug," he breathed, struggling to keep a hold of his voice. It kept dipping into his chest in a mix of relief and uncertainty. They had defeated the Akuma, but now all of Paris knew who his father was and that he had wings. 

"Adrien!" called a voice. 

The teen's heads snapped towards the noise. Nadja Chamack rushed towards him, the microphone outstretched to catch any sounds between him and Ladybug. 

"What do you have to say about speculation that you knew your father's identity all along?" 

The blond blinked, surprised at the reporter's question. The broadcast of his father's admittance had only been available for a few minutes. Parisians were already making speculations?

When he didn't answer, Nadja filled the silence, "The reveal of your wings is quite the surprise! Were you trying to set an example so that other winged people know they can normally live too? Clearly, if you went this long without showing your wings, others could as well. Such a wonderful message to spread! There is no need to flaunt—"

"Don't put words in his mouth," Ladybug snapped at the reporter. 

Adrien flinched at her volume. 

Before he could stop it, a whine fell from his lips. He pulled at his sleeves, suddenly able to feel every fiber as it pressed against his skin. Parts of his body that were not touched by fabric stung with biting cold. Shoulders curling forwards, he latched onto Ladybug's wrist, hoping she would understand what he needed. 

In a cold tone, she added, "We're done here." 

The spotted heroine wrapped one arm around Adrien's waist, tossing her yo-yo with the other. With one last dirty look at Nadja, she swung them away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos, comments, and shares are greatly appreciated!
> 
> I have like 2 to 3 more chapters planned, and I'm kinda sad that we're nearing the end, but also excited to kick Gabriel Agreste's booty. Thank you all for reading! I appreciate it more than you know, and without your support, I would have never gotten this far. <3
> 
> xoxo  
> \- Creative


	20. Mayura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug and Chat Noir head to the Agreste Mansion for what they hope is their last encounter with Hawk Moth. Mayura distracts them.

"Ugh," Marinette paced across the snowy rooftop, brows furrowed, "I cannot believe the audacity of that woman." 

The previously clear day seemed to reflect her sentiment. While the sun disappeared behind a grey cloud, Marinette pivoted on her heels once more. 

Anger bubbled up inside her. Between finding Hawk Moth's identity and listening to Nadja warp their Akuma battle into some kind of anti-wing propaganda, she felt very justified in her anger. Had Adrien not needed to leave, she might have slapped the reporter across the face. 

Crossing her arms, the pigtailed girl glowered in the direction they had come. "She didn't even care about the Akuma! She was just there to get a scoop!"

Adrien frowned in response, huddling closer against the chimney that blocked his body from the wind. His feathers caught against the rough brick, pulling his wings just enough to annoy him. With a huff, he moved them mechanically, folding and refolding until they sat flat against his back. The incessant scraping eased for a moment, allowing Adrien to focus on other thoughts. 

His eyes flitted to where Plagg and Tikki had disappeared moments before. Exhausted from battle, they had phased through the rooftop in search of food. Marinette had been lucky to get this far into the city without dropping her transformation. Adrien suspected it had to do with the anger he could feel rolling off her, but he wasn't exactly in the position to comment on it. Even though he knew the emotion was not directed at him, he found himself on edge, words trapped in his throat. 

As the sun disappeared behind another cloud, the blond shivered. Without the warmth of direct light, his wings began a perpetual shiver, vibrating out of their tightly folded position. They scraped against the brick once more, pulling uncomfortably. Sighing in defeat, Adrien turned to the side, leaning his shoulder against the hard surface. 

"I mean seriously?" Marinette spoke again, thrusting her hands outwards emphatically. With another pivot, she began moving back towards Adrien, "Who does she think she is?" 

The blond hummed in response, trying not to flinch as Marinette's eyes snapped to him.  
He hadn't spoken since Nadja's unsavory comment, and the girl would be lying if she said she wasn't worried. Her blue eyes weighed heavily on him even as he looked down. Marinette felt her heart pang. Her kitty was hurting. Stopping in her pacing, she moved to sit next to him. 

The brick scratched at the fabric of her shirt as she joined him, "Are you okay?" 

He swallowed, lips parting ever so slightly. No sound came out. With a frown, he pursed them back together, tilting his head away from her. 

Marinette reached out, enveloping his hands in hers. His cold fingers twitched against her palms, unconsciously reaching out for the warmth she still held from her transformation. The lingering heat would not last much longer, but hopefully, the kwamis would be ready to transform by then. 

"I'm glad your plan worked," she murmured, "I don't know what I would have done if Hawk Moth had let him hurt you." 

Adrien blushed. 

"Though," she smiled, letting him know she was teasing, "I would have liked to know you were relying on Paris being oblivious to keep your identity."

Adrien let out a light huff, looking down at their entwined hands. Her anger receded, allowing the air to fill with a warmth that was distinctly Marinette. It flowed out of her, spreading the feeling into his hands, which she gently rubbed with her thumbs and continuing up to his arms until it pooled in his heart. He wanted to feel like this all the time. 

"But I'm sure Nadja would have said something if she put it together." 

Nodding in agreement, Adrien replayed the battle in his mind. He knew he had conveniently hidden behind a table that was out of the camera's frame. Any focus would have undoubtedly been on Ladybug. Adrien had honestly tried to minimize the risk of revealing himself, even if it had still been very high risk. 

There was no doubt in Adrien's mind that Nadja would have jumped at the opportunity to expose either of their identities. Had she caught any scent that Chat Noir and Adrien Agreste were one and the same, she would have pounced at the first opportunity. It would have brought in ratings that were impossible to pass up. However, the fact that she had spun the battle so that it highlighted the reveal of his wings made him think she was none the wiser to his true identity. 

Though, the blond knew better than to think he was out of the woods. His actions had been impulsive, and while everything appeared to have worked out, he was the patron of bad luck. He couldn't help but feel he was overlooking something. 

Nadja may not have been able to piece everything together, but she wasn't the only one there. What if the camera operator had seen something? Or the flash of green light that accompanied his transformation had been visible from behind the table? 

The worries wound a vice-like grip around his head. Ladybug would never have done something so rash. Rocking slightly, Adrien hummed to quiet his racing thoughts. 

_What if his father didn't buy the bluff that Chat Noir had brought him to the battle?_

Adrien flinched.

Marinette stiffened next to him, trying to decipher what was wrong. Voice laced with worry; she prodded, "Adrien?" 

Much to her surprise, he answered. 

"Do you think my father figured out my identity?" 

His voice wavered, pushing uncomfortably on either side of his throat. Adrien swallowed hard, attempting to rid himself of the grating feeling, but it wouldn't go away. Everything felt wrong, but he had no choice. Hoarsely, he pushed on, "I don't know how I am going to face him."

"Chaton," Marinette felt her heartache with his words. He turned to her, eyes brimming with uncertainty. 

Fingers curling around his ring, Adrien pressed onwards. "He's been trying to bring my mother back. And half of the puzzle has been under his nose the whole time." 

"Adrien," Marinette turned, so she was fully facing her partner. Taking his other hand, she said sincerely, "I am so sorry." 

The teen sighed. Honestly, Adrien thought he would be more angry, wanting to demand answers from his father. Of course, he had questions, mainly about his mother's true fate or why Gabriel left his only son alone, relying on a wish to fix their relationship, but the furious desire to confront his father was nowhere to be found.

Maybe it was because part of him could understand his father's sentiment. While Adrien knew that his father had committed atrocious wrongs, he also understood them. Emilie had been his everything. She was his sun, his oxygen. To him, losing her was worse than any magical damage he could do to Paris. He had long since compartmentalized his actions as Hawk Moth, rationalizing by the reminder that he could fix everything with a wish. In his mind, he was going to be the hero of the story. 

Adrien knew that his father was a deeply hurt, grieving man, which was by no means an excuse for his actions, but it did serve as an explanation. 

Frowning, Adrien thought out loud, "Terrorizing Paris is not a very healthy way to grieve."

"I could have told you that one, kid," Plagg spoke up from beside the teens, "And I wouldn't call myself an expert on human emotional health by any means."

He flourished his tiny paws. Belly distended outwards with the amount of food he had found. Wasting no time, Plagg floated up to Adrien's neck, nuzzling his chosen affectionately. 

Tikki appeared shortly after. "Sorry, Marinette! We would have been quicker except someone decided to be a glutton," the last part was huffed pointedly at Plagg. 

Not missing a beat, the cat replied, "I have no idea what you are talking about, sugar cube."

"Please," the red kwami rolled her eyes, "If I hadn't reminded you that a certain chosen was probably freezing without your suit, you would still be eating."

As if to highlight her point, Adrien shivered.

Plagg pointed a paw at Tikki, "Ordinarily, I would reject that statement, but we've all had a rough few hours, so I'm no longer going to hide the fact Adrien is my favorite." 

"I'm your favorite?" Adrien practically squeaked. 

The black kwami looked at his chosen. Slightly embarrassed by the admission, he rubbed the back of his head, "Geeze kid, yes." 

The blond grinned, "I'm your favorite." 

"Did you hit your head during that battle?" Plagg refused to meet Adrien's eyes. If he had been human, there was no doubt the kwami would have been blushing. "Yes, Adrien, you're my favorite." 

"Even more than camembert?" 

Growling playfully, Plagg huffed, "Don't push your luck, kid."

Marinette pressed her hands to her mouth to muffle a snort. Tikki shot her a knowing look, flying over to her chosen as Adrien rubbed Plagg underneath the chin. The kwami scowled but soon began to purr, rubbing back against Adrien's fingers. 

"I hate to break this up," Tikki hovered closer to Marinette, "But we really should go get Nooroo from Hawk Moth." 

Plagg's purrs stopped abruptly. He exchanged a look with his red counterpart, a silent and tense conversation passing between them. Before either of the tiny gods could speak, Adrien stood. 

"You're right. We should get going." 

"But—" Plagg protested, followed quickly by a sputtering Marinette.

"Adrien, are you sure?" 

Looking at his partner, the blond nodded, "I think I need to do this." 

Marinette still found herself hesitating, wanting so desperately to spare him the heartache. After all, she doubted Gabriel would go down without a fight. Even without a charged miraculous, he was a formidable opponent. Adrien knew that more than anyone. This wasn't going to be easy. 

The blond touched her arm, pulling her out of her thoughts. He stood close to her now, green irises tracing the outline of her face as she gazed up at him. Even now, he couldn't help but admire her beauty. 

"We started this together, and we will end it together," the breathy tenor of his voice exposed his intentions before his gaze dropped to her lips. Marinette felt herself leaning upward, heart picking as he edged closer. 

Eyes softening, she matched his thick tone, "You and me against the world, mon chaton."

He leaned down, pulling her into a kiss. 

Marinette was quick to react, threading her fingers through his hair as the kiss deepened. He sighed happily in response, urging her hands onwards. The sound spread heat through Marinette's chest. It settled in her abdomen, fluttering like thousands of butterflies as their kiss continued. 

Adrien seemed to experience a similar feeling, hands roaming across Marinette's back as he pulled her closer. The taste of her filled his senses. Enamored with Marinette, the worry and doubt that lingered in the back of his mind shrunk to nothing. Nothing could ruin this. He was hers, and she was his.

His whole body felt electrified as Marinette surged against him. Without thinking, his hands scooped her up, supporting under her thighs as she straddled his torso. He pressed her back against the brick chimney for balance, tilting his head to allow her more comfortable access. She groaned into him, making his feathers flare outwards in pleasure. 

"Okay! That's enough of that," Plagg practically yelled, suddenly appearing between Adrien and Marinette's faces. 

Taking in their promiscuous position, Adrien quickly lowered Marinette to the ground, face turning into a tomato. He stepped away, embarrassed that he had gotten so caught up in the kiss. The pigtailed girl sported the same red expression, eyes flitting apologetically to her kwami. 

"If you kiss like that again, I might have to give you the creation talk," Tikki giggled, eyes light. Although she hadn't been initially on board with the identity reveal, she wasn't blind. She saw how happy Marinette was to finally sort out her feelings and not have to carry the burden of Ladybug alone. This had been good for both of them. Good for the miraculous. 

If Marinette was red before, she somehow turned an even darker shade, "Oh my god, Tikki, stop."

"There is no need to be embarrassed! Creation is a wonderful thing!" 

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his weight uncomfortably. 

"Nope, nope, nope," Marinette plugged her ears, tuning out her kwami, "This is not happening. We're transforming." 

Each teen spoke their transformation phrases, welcoming the rush of power as their super-suits formed over them. Adrien sighed in relief as Plagg's ability instantly warmed him. 

Shaking out his wings, he turned to his partner. She was already grinning at him. A spotted mask stretched over her striking blue eyes. 

"Race you to your house," she challenged, taking off before he could reply. 

Adrien watched her go for a moment, steeling himself for what he knew was coming. Launching himself off the building, he followed her, catching up only because she let him. 

Paris passed in a blur. Chat Noir found his mind returning to his father, again and again, the calm before the storm foreshadowed by his own thoughts. He was going to have to put the man in jail. He was probably going to have to fight him first. 

Chat Noir had no problem fighting akumas. They never remembered anything from the battles, and Ladybug's cure always healed the civilian inside, but the thought of fighting his father made his blood run cold. Even if the man was evil—which Adrien wasn't convinced of, Gabriel had some serious issues and had done some horrible things, but he couldn't be evil—he didn't deserve to be beaten up by two heroes with super strength. 

They arrived more quickly than Adrien would have liked. Landing on a rooftop across from his house, Chat Noir surveyed the scene. 

A police barricade had already surrounded the mansion. Red and blue lights reflected off of the white walls creating a lux nova effect. Officer Raincomprix, the hero, recognized him from the Rogercop Akuma, stood ready with his signature megaphone, prepared to send his men into the belly of the beast. Chat Noir swallowed, tail flicking back and forth incessantly. All of this to arrest his father. 

"It's okay if you don't want to do this," Ladybug said, catching her breath in preparation to meet the officers below. 

Chat shook his head, "I meant what I said about finishing this together." 

He also couldn't shake the nagging feeling that Ladybug was walking into something more than his angry, hurting father, but he didn't want to risk jinxing anything. Either way, he was going with her into that mansion. 

With a nod, both heroes landed at the rear end of the barricade. Walking through police cars' lines with forced confidence, Chat Noir followed Ladybug up to Officer Raincomprix. 

"We will engage him inside," she spoke authoritatively, leaving no room for argument, "Once we have secured him, we will let you take over." 

Officer Raincomprix nodded, inhaling to bellow the plan to his men. Chat Noir barely had time to flatten his ears before the noise ran through the air. The cat hero didn't understand the point of yelling into a megaphone when the tool's entire purpose was to carry your voice just as far with less effort. However, that didn't stop the officer from yelling the plan into the device. From the way his ears rang, he was convinced the whole block had heard him. 

Ladybug shot him an apologetic look before thanking the officer. Moving in sync once again, the duo swung and vaulted respectively over the privacy fence that encircled the Agreste property. The house seemed to glare down at them as they approached the front door. Its grand facade still hiding secrets from the outside world. 

Chat Noir shivered. 

"Any idea where Hawk Moth might be?" Ladybug frowned in front of the door, waiting for her partner before opening it. 

"He hardly leaves his office," Chat's wings shuffled behind him, uncomfortable. 

The spotted heroine nodded. She shifted her weight, leaning back on her left leg in preparation to kick the door. Before she could complete her action, however, Chat grasped the doorknob. It turned quickly, surprising both heroes. 

"We don't really expect anyone to get past the gate. Usually, Nathalie would have activated the security lockdown by now, but something tells me she's indisposed." the black cat cringed at his words. 

Gaze hardening, Ladybug pushed the door open, jumping into the foyer with her yo-yo swinging. The wooden surface hit the wall with a bang which reverberated around the marble space. Chat lept after her, raising his baton in a defensive stance. 

The foyer was empty. 

Ladybug frowned, letting her guard slip for a moment. She glanced up at the portrait of Adrien and his father. Gabriel's cold and calculating eyes seemed to follow her, but she knew that it had to be her imagination. 

Beside her, Chat Noir turned his attention to a complicated-looking alarm box. Expecting him to put in a code to ensure its disarmament, she was shocked when he punched it aggressively. Sparks flew as his fist connected with the box, bits of plastic covering fell to the floor as the parts broke under pressure. 

"What was that for?" She hissed. 

"It's not like he trusts me with the disarmament code," her partner hissed back. Ears flattening, he shook out his hand. Chat Noir could feel the bruises forming on his knuckles even with the protection of Plagg's suit. Maybe he had gone a little overboard with the punch, but it sure was satisfying. 

With a shrug, the black cat hero added, "It was our best bet." 

Sighing, Ladybug stopped spinning her yo-yo. Just as she caught its circular face, a blur of blue and purple barreled into her. She gasped as she was knocked to the ground, yo-yo skidding across the floor and settling at the base of the stairs. Spots danced across the hero's vision as her head made contact with the marble. The blue woman squabbed atop the hero, attempting for another hit while Ladybug was down. Thankfully, Chat Noir was soon on them, shoving the blue villain off. 

"Mayura," He growled, standing protectively in front of his partner. His black wings unfurled menacingly as he snarled at the woman in front of him. "I should have known."

Behind him Ladybug stood, blinking rapidly to clear her head. Of course, Mayura was here. After all, merely apprehending Hawk Moth after all these years would have been too easy. It only made sense his rarely seen sidekick decided to make her appearance. Ladybug scowled, talking in the peacock holder. 

Her super suit had taken on a dress-like appearance, hugging her body closely. Unfortunately for the hero duo, they already learned her outfit of choice did not impede her ability to fight. Even if she had been ultimately unsuccessful in obtaining their miraculous, she certainly gave the teen's a run for their money.

Eyes hardening with hostility, Ladybug continued to sweep in the other holder's appearance. The asymmetric cut of her flowing skirt gave her a regal air. The longer edge was scalloped behind her, just barely reaching the floor. Each round cut was adorned with a circular pattern, making the skirt resemble plumage typical of a peacock. In her hands, she clasped a folded fan made of the same stylized feathers. 

Ladybug was glad to see that the fan was closed. Having Mayura use her ability was the last thing she wanted. A Sentimonister would force her to use Lucky Charm, and she couldn't afford to drop her transformation with Hawk Moth so close. Further, the creations were immune to cataclysm, which put Chat Noir at a disadvantage. 

They didn't have time to engage her. They needed to catch Gabriel before he could recharge his kwami. 

Stepping outwards to avoid her partner's wings, Ladybug began to talk.

"Mayura," She turned her palms outward, showing she was not going to attack, "We can end all the fighting. You don't have to side with him anymore." 

The blue villainess's face remained impassive. She fixed Ladybug with a cold, unblinking stare. The hero would take Mayura's eerie pink gaze any day if it meant she was getting through to the woman.

The red-clad hero pushed onwards, "Aren't you tired of seeing all the suffering this has caused?" 

"There has always been suffering, Ladybug," Mayura's monotone voice answered. She opened her fan, raising it in front of her face with a coy smirk. 

_So much for that,_ Ladybug sighed. The hero raised her fists defensively in lieu of her yo-yo. She wasn't as nearly as good as Chat in close combat, but currently, the blue woman stood in front of her and her weapon, so she would have to make due. However, before either woman could make a move, Chat Noir spoke up. 

Although his voice was quiet, his words demanded attention, "You can't bring him back, Nathalie."

For a fraction of a second, Mayura's eyes widened, shattering her poker face. She froze behind her fan, quickly schooling her features. Pink eyes zeroing in on the cat hero, she clipped, "What did you say?"

Ladybug's thoughts raced to keep up, reeling as she put together the connections between the villainess and Gabriel Agreste's personal assistant. The dark-haired teen felt a little dumb for not seeing it sooner, though she supposed the magic that protected her identity was just as strong in the other miraculouses. Blinking, she listened as her partner continued. 

"Fath—Mr. Agreste has changed these past few years. He's hardly the same man who employed you. Surely you realize that playing into his whims is not going to change him back to the man you once admired." 

Mayura glared icily, "You don't know what you're talking about, cat."

"Please," he challenged, voice alarmingly apathetic, "You see how well catering to him works out for Adrien." 

Ladybug's blue eyes grew wide, shaken by her partner's words. He refused to look at her, instead never taking his gaze off of Mayura. The villainess shifted uncomfortably under his stare, revealing more emotion with the action than she had in any of their previous encounters. 

Even though she knew it was dangerous, Marinette took her eyes off of Mayura. In a mix of worry and confusion, she scanned her partner's face, trying to understand why he had brought up such a volatile subject. She expected to find him angry, using the strong emotion to fuel his words. If that was the case, she couldn't blame him; after all, the closest people to him had turned out to be supervillains. That was enough to make anyone furious. Yet, when she looked into his eyes, he looked calm. 

"Madame Sancoeur," he addressed her with respect, "You deserve better than a man that uses the past as an excuse to manipulate others."

Suddenly, Ladybug recognized the emotion in his eyes. 

"Staying with him won't fix him," he finished quietly. 

Understanding. Adrien conveyed understanding. 

Ladybug felt herself tear up at the realization. Everything Chat Noir had said had not been just for Nathalie. It had been for himself as well. Maybe Marinette imagined it, but Chat Noir seemed to stand taller with the words. As if reminding himself that his father's actions were not his fault had lifted a weight off his chest. As if he had forgiven himself for not stopping it sooner. 

The foyer was quiet for a moment. Mayura raised her free hand to her chest where the peacock brooch lay. Her gloved fingers brushed over its shiny surface. Looking between Chat Noir and Ladybug, she began to weigh her options. 

If she sided with the teen heroes now, all of the progress she had made with Gabriel would be for nothing. The trust she had built up since the day Emilie got sick would be gone. If she switched sides now, the loyalty she had shown from the beginning would have been for nothing. She would be admitting that she was on the wrong side. 

Over the years, Nathalie and Gabriel had gone from boss and assistant to friend and confidant. All she ever wanted was to be by Gabriel's side, and now that she had made it, was she really thinking about throwing it all away? Would she betray him?

Her knuckles clenched around the base of her fan.

"Mayura," Chat Noir folded his wings. Stowing his staff on his belt, he raised his hand outwards. In a tight voice, he continued, "Please." 

That _damn_ cat. 

She looked to him, taking in his sincere expression. 

He was about Adrien's age, sporting the same bright blond hair—though the cat hero was more untamed. Perhaps the similarities in their appearances were making the hero's words more persuasive. Adrien always seemed to make her poker face waver, though she had never let him know that. 

The teen had always seen the best in her, asking her about her day, checking in on how she was doing even though her job often required her to crush his wants and desires. He was just a kid, and she had lied and manipulated him, just like his father, just like his father had done to her.  
Guilt stabbed through her chest. 

"Do you think he will ever forgive me?" hesitance crept into Nathalie's voice. 

The still transformed Nathalie tore her eyes away from Chat Noir, looking instead at the portrait of Adrien and his father. The boy's sad green eyes weighed heavily on her, pulling away the indifferent expression she had spent years perfecting. For the first time in a long time, Nathalie allowed herself to feel. 

"It's complicated," Chat Noir answered, looking at the portrait himself. 

Mayura lowered her fan, usually proud eyes downcast. "I suppose you're right." 

With newfound determination, she ripped off the broach. Her transformation fell away with a flash, leaving Nathalie in her tailored pantsuit. For a moment, her eyes lingered on the miraculous, face a mix of pain, guilt, and acceptance. As if bracing herself, she took a breath and placed the broach into Chat Noir's outstretched palm. 

"His lair is under his office. Press the buttons on Emilie's portrait to open the passageway. Nooroo will probably stall as long as he can, but there is only so much he can do." 

Chat Noir nodded, fingers curling around the peacock miraculous, "Thank you, Nathalie." 

Ladybug moved as soon as Chat Noir secured the miraculous. Passing Mayura swiftly, she picked up her yo-yo, sliding it open so they could put the broach inside. 

"Your cooperation will not be forgotten," Ladybug promised, crossing back over to her partner. He gave her the miraculous, watching as she placed it into her compact. 

With one last nod, Nathalie schooled her face back into a neutral expression. She didn't look back as she surrendered into the front yard. Ladybug watched as an officer put handcuffs on the assistant, his lips moving quickly as he read her her rights. Turning back to her partner, she asked, 

"Are you alright?" 

Chat Noir let out a sigh, forcing himself to turn away from the sight of his primary caretaker being arrested. Shaking his head, he moved towards the door of his father's office. 

"Let's end this." 

Frowning at her partner's less than smooth question dodge, she crossed the room, so she was standing next to him. She didn't know what to say. Even if she did, there were no words to describe how desperately she wished this wasn't happening to him. Raising one hand to his bicep, she hoped to convey that she loved and supported him. 

"Let's end this," She repeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, shares, comments, and kudos are greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading <3


End file.
